Seeking for Hope
by Echodex
Summary: Got the idea from optimus prime 007's Kaceystar trilogy, and continues her story with a couple of new OC's added. Rating for violence and lots of profanity, some adult themes in later chapters. Various pairings, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Intercepted

**OKAYS!** This is actually a fanfiction of a fanfiction. The original Kaceystar-fiction is from optimus prime 007, if you haven't read it, some of the things here will make little to no sense, so I suggest you go to her first. (I'd suggest it heavily anyway, she's an excellent writer). This will revolve around the same crew, though, so we'll see a lot of our beloved 'Bots, I assure you. This takes place between the second and third parts of her trilogy, around three months after the ending of MBRS. (if you haven't read it, go read it! doooo iit! dooo iit NO0OW!!!1!)

**DISCLAIMER**:

Hasbro and their buddies own all recognizable Transformers, I only borrow them for your entertainment.

Also, the following characters are optimus prime 007's property and are not to be used without permission: Kaceystar and the rest of Optimus Prime and Elita-1's kids, Galen and Kayla, Marshall, Sidewinder (or little Sides) and Nitro, Rox and his buddies, Venom, Viper, and a bunch of the younger folk.

The rest of the unrecognizable ones are mine (the only one I really use in this chap is Cross). If you use, I'd like to at least be notified. If not, I'll sic my puppy on your afts.

How to read the lines: :_bond talk:_,_ 'comm-link talk'_, "normal talk", _thoughts_

Enjoy!

* * *

**Galen**

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had done it – again. It didn't really surprise anyone at that point, but that didn't mean that my father let them off any easier.

"OWW! Watch what you're doing, you slag-head!" Sides complained as my father made a little adjustment to his position. Father didn't even grace him with a retort, instead concentrating on his work. At that moment, he was _attempting _to get rid of something sharp embedded into Sides's aft. My guess was that it was a part of shrapnel from when Sides and Sunny's prank backfired, courtesy of Wheeljack. I winced at the memory resurfacing…

_Earlier that day_

_It was nice and calm in the rec room, with mechs and femmes alike chatting away. It had been fairly quiet, and we really needed the rest after the crazy stunt the 'Cons pulled. Attacking the younglings… I shuddered at the memory. I'd felt so helpless, and humbled, too, by Leo's brave attempts at trying to help his sister, Kaceystar. I pulled myself from my musings before Ariel could pick up on them. I swear, the femme is a psychic with how easily she feels my mood swings, especially anything negative._

_The femme in question was cuddling my side, carefully sipping energon and listening to her older twin, Orion, conversing with Sockets. They had become rather good friends over the course of years, perhaps because they were both rather calm by nature. Not that I wasn't, and they were good friends of mine, too, but I had Ariel to care for. Primus, I thank all deities willing to listen for every moment I can share with her, even if I can't show it all to her. Yet. A smile caressed my lips, and of course she noticed it._

"_What are you thinking about?" she asked, a ghost of a smile twitching just below the surface, her optics glittering enticingly. I gave the best charmer-smile I could muster._

"_You. Nothing else can make me smile like that spontaneously," I answered, nuzzling her face affectionately. She returned the gesture with a small sigh. I leaned in to plant a kiss to her forehead –_

_The whole rec room exploded. I quickly, instinctively covered Ariel's frame with my own to shield her form anything. When I realized I heard no plasma-fire, I cautiously looked around. Some sticky, semi-liquid substance in pretty much all the colors imaginable had flown everywhere and nanokliks later there was another minor boom, and the air was filled with small, fragile looking things. I caught one in my hand and looked closer. A feather. A completely normal feather. When I tried to get it off my hand, it stuck like glue. I shook my hand, attempting to dislodge it. No such luck. Many adults were already swearing and trying to find the culprit. Or culprits, I thought and looked for a certain set of Lamborghini twins. Of course they were not around. I looked around to see if any of the higher officers were here. I winced, spotting Red Alert, Prowl and dad along with Ironhide. _

"_When I find them, I'm going to reformat them into fragging DOORBELLS!!!" dad snarled viciously. No one had to ask as to whom he was referring to. This wasn't going well for Sunny and Sides, as I was sure they were the culprits. And so were dad and Prowl. Apparently, he had been having his lunch energon, probably having a calm conversation. I sneaked a quick look at Prowl. He had a reasonably calm expression on his face, like nothing bad had happened. For a moment, I thought the twins would be able to avoid his wrath this time. Then I saw the tell-tale twitch on his thin lips: he very nearly smiled. It must've been the scariest thing I'd seen in a few months! I quickly opened a comm. channel to Sides, seeing as he was the one that was easier to talk to of the twin Lambos. Also, it was highly probable that he was ultimately behind all of this. Usually Sides designed the pranks and then dragged Sunny with him, so he didn't have to suffer the consequences alone._

'Sides? This is Galen. Soooo, you know anything about colored, sticky paint-bombs going off in the rec room?'

_A pause that was slightly too long to be convincing._

'Noooo…'_ he sounded like he was totally awed by the idea of an explosion of colors and feathers._

_I resisted the urge to facepalm, silently thanking my father for having such a stubborn nature for me to inherit. From Sides's tone of voice, I could hear he was an inch from totally cracking up._

'Where are you?'_ I asked, a bit peeved at him. I had sticky, multicolor paint all over me, and feathers to boot, and the mech laughs?!_

'I have monitor duty! It's not like I could really prank anyone when on duty, now could I?'_ came the completely innocent and blatantly fake answer that wouldn't have fooled a drunken, mentally unstable Decepticon. I suppressed a growl, and sent one last message._

'Okay, good, because father threatened to reformat you and your brother into doorbells, and if you happened to have any evidence on you, he wouldn't hesitate to do it. He's been recharging less than what's healthy, and he only now got to a break. Also, I should inform you that Prowl might be even more of a problem. I think I saw him smile…'

'Oh FRAGGIT! Sunny!'_ And the comm. link died. I snickered, unable to hold it back. Oh, they were so in for it…_

_After some chasing down, Sides and Sunny were cornered near Wheeljack's lab. They'd tried to take two big boxes of paint cans and feather sacks to the waste disposal centre, but Prowl, with Red Alert's help, intercepted them long before they reached their goal. Ariel had gone to clean herself of the drops of paint that had somehow managed to land on her despite me trying to protect her, so I was now alone. I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Sunny and Sides, annoying as they were. They had about twenty mechs and femmes screaming for their energon, and they had nowhere to run. Sides forced out a laugh before Prowl and Ratchet, who had led the hunt, could move closer than a few steps._

"_Heyyy, guys, what a coincidence to see you all here. What are you looking for? Wheeljack? I don't think it's smart to go in his lab at the moment, I think he's experimenting… But wait, I know, we'll go check for you, ok? Just sit tight for a minute, and we'll… run, Sunny!!" And they tore towards 'Jacks lab. Suddenly the lab door opened and Wheeljack himself emerged, optics wide. He took one look at the assembled mismatch of soldiers and civilians before screaming._

"_Duck and cover!" and landing face first on the floor. Those of us that knew him didn't bother wondering what had him scared, because we knew from experience that it couldn't be good. Sunny and Sides, however, and gathered too much momentum to stop. Instead, they braked and slid forward a bit – and stopped right in front of the open door to the lab. Their faces fell._

"_Oh, sla-!"_

_BOOM!_

My mind was pulled from my musings by another yelp of pain, this time originating from Sunstreaker. Apparently my father had managed to dislodge the nasty piece of shrapnel from Sides's aft and was now concentrating on Sunny. He was in a better condition, since he had held the box of leftover feathers rather than the metal cans that had, due to the force of the explosion, ripped apart. I suspected that some of the shrapnel embedded to the twins was from those, but the one in Side's aft had been way too big to be from a simple can.

Which led me to assume that it had come from 'Jack's lab.

I did _not_ want to know what its purpose originally had been. Some things are better left undiscovered, as my father has taught me.

I had to admit, though, that their plan was a bit better than usually, since they often stayed near the prank to see it happen, and thus got caught ridiculously easily. This time, they'd used remote controls, and since they both had monitor duty, they could do their jobs AND watch the show at the same time. The perfect alibi. Smart, really, if you didn't get caught later with some incriminating gear. Of course, this was not the way the twins usually worked, and I caught a scent of Kacey's involvement. Either that or the twins had somehow managed to get the idea from her. Kacey would do something like that, but it was way too smart for 'Sides. Or Sunny.

Deciding it was better to leave my irate father deal with his vict-, I mean patients, I strolled out of the med bay, headed to see how the clean-up in the rec room was coming along. I was just about to round the first corner when the base-wide radio blared to life. I easily recognized the voice to be Prowl.

"Attention! All Autobot officer personnel gather to the Command Center! Repeat, all Autobot officer personnel gather to the Command Center! This is NOT a drill!"

I frowned. Prowl wasn't the type to just issue orders without a good reason, and something that serious-sounding must not be good. Then again, he'd been a little beyond twitchy because of the lack of Decepticon activity lately, bordering to paranoia almost rivaling Red Alert's. Nevertheless, I heard the med bay doors whoosh open, and my father stomped out.

"Galen, make sure they don't leave the med bay. Strap them down if you must." I didn't have to wonder who he meant by that. I sighed, and turned around to head back.

I could only hope that the meeting that had so abruptly been called wouldn't be long. I had promised Ariel that I'd spend the rest of the day with her, and I wasn't about to do it with the twins watching us over my shoulder!

**Ratchet**

I growled, stomping down the hall leading to the Command Center. Prowl better have a good reason for his sudden meeting, or I'd rip him a new one! Mechs and femmes alike steered clear of my path, making sure not to make optic contact with me. That was one of the good sides of being the notoriously cranky monster of the med bay. I silently congratulated myself as I entered the Command Center – I was one of the first answering the call. The others would have much more trouble trying to get through the overly populated hallways.

"Ratchet!"

I turned to look at Prowl. He was standing near the main computer with Blaster typing away at it. He beckoned me closer.

"What do you make of this?" he asked, motioning at the radar on the screen. At first, it seemed like just the normal readings, but then the radar showed something that wasn't there before.. Something that usually spelled trouble with capital letters. I swore, and Prowl nodded.

"That's what I thought. It does look like a 'Con ship, don't you think?" I affirmed my general opinion with another profanity.

"Unfortunately, yes it does", I snarled after somewhat composing myself. I already had enough work, and now, after a long, long break, the 'Cons suddenly decide to attack?! They were out to get me, I was certain. Then I realized I sounded like Red Alert at his finest and quit my musings before they got out of hand. Prowl shifted.

"What makes me wonder is how we got it on the radar," he said. I cocked an optic ridge, silently encouraging him to elaborate. "Blaster intercepted an emergency signal."

"Did an Autobot ship get blasted by that?!" I fairly screeched. If that was the case, I didn't even want to think what had happened to the poor 'Bots on the unfortunate ship. There would have to be searching parties, I'd have to care for the wounded…

Prowl cleared his vocalizer, prompting me to stop fussing. But it was Blaster who then cleared the situation to both me and the officers who now had made their appearance as well.

"That's the funny thing, Ratchet. To our knowledge, the signal originated from that ship. And it was of Decepticon origin, so it can't be an Autobot trying to contact us by hijacking the comm. systems, either. They'd have sent an Autobot signal by overriding the controls manually and then… Sorry." He explained, looking fairly sheepish because of the faces the others were making at him. I was baffled.

"But… But why would a 'Con ship ask for help from us? That doesn't make any sense! Unless it's a cleverly disguised trap… We should shoot it out of the sky!" Red Alert. Trust him to come up with an explanation involving deception from anything. If someone told him that some people liked to start the morning by having a cup of steaming hot tea instead of coffee, he'd make it a theory of revolution and usurpation in a nanoklik.

"I believe we should investigate. Do we have their landing coordinates, or are they not following a pattern?" Prowl asked, and I could practically hear the gears and circuitry in his head working overtime to count all the probabilities of what could happen.

"I got the coordinates of landing almost immediately after tracing the signal. Someone up there knows we're listening. They almost sent them to me, it was that easy to trace. I think it was intentional. Either that or these people REALLY don't know what they're doing." Blaster recounted. I frowned.

"If that's not the case, then it's the opposite. Someone on board might actually be manipulating us with this. Do you think it could be Soundwave?" I asked Blaster. It was his turn to frown.

"Nah, not his style. And Megatron wouldn't let his third go off like that. The vessel is large enough only to house eight or ten Decepticon mechs, and it's headed straight for us. That amount of mechpower wouldn't be enough to even scratch us, and Megatron knows it, and even if he didn't, then Soundwave surely would. Suicide isn't something he'd be interested in, even for his cause." Blaster said. I believed him, since he was the one that knew Soundwave best. Ironhide grunted.

"Well, if it isn't Soundwave, then who is it?" he asked, clearly irritated. I knew what he wanted to do: shoot the thing, just like Red Alert had suggested. But I also knew he'd wait until Optimus gave his orders. Ironhide truly hated the 'Cons with an unyielding passion, but he was, above all, fiercely loyal to his Prime. Said mech straightened his posture and issued his orders.

"We will wait for it to land, and see what this is about. Prowl, gather a team of twenty soldiers and meet me outside in fifteen minutes. Ratchet, Ironhide, you'll be coming, too. Take a few other medics with you, Ratchet, if there really is a problem on the ship, there could be injuries. Blaster, stay here and monitor the situation. Make sure they don't try to reach any 'Cons or try anything and maintain constant communications with me and Prowl directly. Everyone knows what you're supposed to be doing. Proceed." And with that, he left the room. Prowl started barking orders, but I didn't stick around. I had to get my own crew together. Exiting the room, I opened a comm. link channel to Wheeljack.

''_Jack? Get Perceptor and Swoop and get the med bay ready for incoming casualties. And get Sockets and First Aid to come to the front entrance in the next ten minutes. We have a mission to go to. Also, why weren't you in the meeting? All high ranking personnel were supposed to attend!'_

'_Ratch'? What are you talking about? Wait, there was a meeting? Sorry, I was experimenting on something Ironhide mentioned. It's quite fascinating, really. You see, I put some nitroglyse-'_

'_Wheeljack, we don't have time for that! Move, now!'_

'_Oh, right! Sorry, I'll get right on it! Wheeljack out.'_

I huffed, knowing Wheeljack it would get him at least five minutes to detach himself from whatever crazy project he was working on. It had to be loud, Prowl hadn't exactly been discreet with his announcement of the meeting. I hurried to the med bay, and was glad to notice the twins weren't around any more. I wasn't sure I could take their slag right now. I saw Galen putting away some tools from where I had worked on the Lambo nightmares.

"Galen," I called to him, making him turn around.

"Yes?"

"I'm going for a mission, so I need you to help 'Jack and the others as they instruct you. We might have incoming casualties, so make sure your mother doesn't come by with Kayla." I said and left to meet with Optimus, not waiting for a reply. I trusted my son, he'd do as instructed.

**Kaceystar**

I could feel my father long before I heard his heavy footsteps from the hall. He was confused, apprehensive and… nervous? No, that wasn't it. Father was never nervous, even when the Autobots were in a heap of trouble. But he was… There isn't a word for it. When he stepped into our family's quarters, I immediately went to hug him.

"What's bothering you, father?" I mumbled into his chest. He rewarded my question with only a heavy sigh.

"Something isn't making sense, sweetspark. I'm going away for a bit, so I'd like you to-"

"No way, dad, I'm not staying behind when something's bothering you like this. Going away? Is it about the thing you had the meeting about?"

This rewarded me another hefty sigh. He then pulled away, and I took two steps back in order to be able to look at him without much difficulty.

Slag the mech was tall!

"Yes, yes it is. And I take it you're going to insist on coming with?" he asked, almost resigned sounding. I frowned. It wasn't like him to show how tired he was, but now he looked exhausted. Sure, he'd had a lot of trouble trying to calm the base down, especially Red Alert and Prowl, who were both fritzing because of the lack of action from the 'Cons, one from paranoia and the other one from overwork on trying to find out what they were up to. My personal opinion was that my uncle had something else on his mind. Which, of course, should've made me nervous, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not when everyone was having the down-time that we'd been craving for a long time now.

"Yes, I think I will. When do we leave?" I asked, already making a list of things I might need. _Blades, a few small explosives, some med equipment…_ I counted in my head. My father's soft chuckle brought me away from my thoughts.

"Right now. I'll notify your mother about the situation, although she won't be the least bit impressed with it, I'm sure…" father said. I winced in sympathy. Mom had been more than a little stressed out lately, trying to take care of all my younger siblings. Leo had become a nightmare, I swear…

"Get to the front entrance, Kacey. I'll be there in a minute." father said and went to write a message to mother about our sudden disappearance. I went to my room, grabbed my effects and raced out. I hadn't seen action in a long while, and I was dying to get some! It had been far too long!

When I got to the hangar that served as our deploying post, I noticed that this wasn't just a normal let's-go-check-what-landed-mission. Prowl was issuing orders and Ratchet was there, too, with First Aid and Sockets. This meant business, and my jovial mood was instantly gone, replaced with sheer determination. I marched up to Prowl.

"Where will you situate me?"

"Right here in the base," he tried.

"Ha. Ha-ha." I deadpanned, making a few of the mechs chuckle before Prowl could identify them.

"I mean it, Prowl. I already talked about it with my father, and he is letting me come with. So where do you want me?"

He sighed, but didn't seem all that bothered about it.

"You go with Ironhide, he'll make sure you don't get into situations, in case it's a trap. If it is, we can be sure that they target Prime and his offspring first."

"Who?"

He frowned. "Didn't anyone tell you what has happened?"

"I just got here, I don't know anything yet." I answered, shrugging my shoulders for emphasis. He noticeably sagged.

"You're going on a mission… and you know nothing about it… Great, go to Ironhide and have him explain the situation, we're deploying right now." I nodded and made my way to the old weapons specialist.

"You coming too, then." It wasn't a question. I felt us lift off, and then head west from the base.

"Yeah, I couldn't wait to see some action again. It's been horrible, being just cooped up in the base. How do you take that? I mean, you're not exactly a patient mech," I said with a grin. He snorted in response, but smiled.

"Why you slaggin' little… I go to the firing range, of course. There's not a better way to relieve stress from not being able to blow Decepticans apart than blowing holo-Decepticans to smithereens. 'Cept for interfacing, of course," he added after a little pause. I groaned.

"Figures you'd mix the two… Anyway, onwards with the important stuff, Prowl told me to come to you for information about the situation. Why does he want me to stay close to you for protection? It can't be that bad, I mean, I've been fighting 'Cons for the bigger part of my life!"

"This is different. We don't know if these are 'Cons for sure or not. It's a 'Con ship we're going to look at, but it hailed us with an emergency signal. 'Cons don't do emergency signals. At all." I frowned.

"So aren't sure what this is?"

"No."

"And Sunny and Sides are still recovering from the, aah, healing process Ratch' gave them?"

"They're at the base, trying to sort their CPUs out, I suppose, yes."

"So why do we have this little people with? And not all that many officers with, either. Magnus isn't here, mother isn't here, frag, not even Chromia's here! What do you think we're looking at? If this is a 'Con ship and it's supposed to be a trap, it'll be packed with those slaggers. We'll be shot on sight, and with numbers that big, we won't -"

"Kacey, calm it. It's not a war-ship we're going to see. It's almost like a large emergency pod, it could house only eight mechs if they knew each other well, and ten if they were intimate," Ironhide interrupted my calculations. I didn't need that mental image. I really didn't. I grimaced.

"That is a very disturbing thought. Let's forget it, okay?" I sighed. "Alright, so we might have up to about ten hostile mechs against us, or we might have the same amount or less friendlies, possibly in a bad condition. We don't know which, since it could be a genuine reach for help, or it could be a not-so-subtle trap. This is ridiculous," I said. Ironhide shrugged.

"I've noticed war has quite a few points that are border-line ridiculous." He opened his mouth to say more, but then the internal communications channel flared to life.

"Decepticon vessel sighted on the ground. Prepare for landing."

I steeled myself. I had no way of knowing what to expect, but I was going to find out. Soon.

**Optimus**

I had to admit I was apprehensive. After landing, I lead the small band of Autobots to the site where the small Decepticon vessel was still smoking from the impact. It had carved a large amount of plants and dirt from the ground. The place was a mess. I turned to Hound.

"Do you get any readings?"

He concentrated for a moment, then his eyes widened.

"Seventeen spark-signatures, all in the vessel," he answered, but sounded like he was a bit unsure of what he was talking about. I couldn't help but second-guess him. I trusted him, no doubt about that, but the vessel was, as I now could see, simply too small to house such a large amount of signatures.

"Check."

"I tripled already. Wait… Oops, make that nineteen signatures. Sir, could they be cassettes?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I don't think so. That would mean Soundwave was with them, and even if he had all his six creations with, it would still leave the vessel with thirteen mechs and six cassettes. And Soundwave is their only tape-deck as far as we know."

What was this…? I opened a comm. to Ratchet, attempting to ask his opinion.

'_Ratchet…'_

'_I don't understand it, either. I think I sense more than that, though. Hound's long-range sensors are good, but they are only so accurate. My medical scans show at least twenty-two sparks, and a few others that just might be sparks, but they are weaker. Let me go closer.'_ He'd obviously overheard our conversation, or eavesdropped on it, but I didn't care at that point.

"Prowl, Ironhide, Ratchet, with me. Now. The rest of you, keep us covered." I moved, but then noticed a fourth soldier trailing behind me. I sighed.

"Kacey…"

"I want to come too, father. I don't want you to be hurt," she pleaded with me, sending her love through our bond. I couldn't resist her, and allowed her to come after us.

We stepped closer cautiously, knowing it could be a trap. _We've been fooled like this before_, I reminded myself of the first time we met Venom, my nephew. I shrugged it off, reminding myself that this time we were prepared.

"Ratchet, how are those readings?"

"There is too much interference, I can't get a good fix on them all. There is at least twenty-two, but I have four readings that are too inaccurate to tell anything. I think there's something on the alloy of the vessel that's disrupting my readings." I very nearly growled out of frustration. The situation was tense, and I could almost feel Ironhide's need to just blast the doors open and shoot anything stupid enough to move.

"What if we opened the door, or made some kind of a hole in the hull?"

As if it heard us, the door hissed open. Before I could say anything, I heard multiple clicks behind us, and the unmistakable whirr of Ironhide's cannons warming up. I opened my mouth to command my troops.

"Don't shoot!"

I nearly choked on my unspoken words from shock. The voice was fairly high-pitched, and didn't sound like anyone we'd brought along. It belonged to a femme, too, and the only femme Autobot present and accounted for was my own daughter.

And my daughter wasn't a youngling anymore. The owner of that voice was.

I peered in to the doorway, trying to see something, anything. I felt with my bond, too, since Megatron might've tried to pull another Venom on me, this time with his little femme, Viper. I didn't get anything back, however, so I resorted to verbal communications.

"Who are you?" I asked. Prowl also cleared his throat.

"State your designation and faction."

"Slag that, Prowl," Ratchet suggested and moved closer. "You have nothing to fear, young one. Please, step forth so we can see you."

"I can't come on my own…" the young femme trailed off from the darkness. "My legs are too damaged. Can my friend help me? I'll have to crawl over if she can't." My officers looked at me expectantly.

"Of course."

"Okays. Come on, it'll be okay, I promise," the little femme said, obviously trying to encourage her friend. I heard a few more whispers, and after that, silence. Then they stepped into the daylight for us to see.

They were two femmes, maybe a bit older than Orion and Ariel. I immediately saw which one we'd been talking with. She was the smaller, and younger of the two, a light blue in color. I winced at her injuries: her right thigh had been punctured by something, and her both ankles had marks of high security energon cuffs rubbing on them, and she leaned heavily on her friend.

Her companion wasn't much better off. She was a bit taller and wider than the one we talked with, and she bore old, light scars all over her light purple body despite her young age. Some of the injuries were recent, but the smaller one's serious damage looked old. The smaller femme looked at us straight in the optics, but the other one kept her head bowed and her face hidden. Both looked like they hadn't had a decent recharge or refuel in a long time, never mind a visit to the wash racks.

I heard a growl next to me, and the older femme flinched, a soft gasp erupting from her vocalizer. I knew it tore Ratchet apart to see younglings in such a bad state, and injuries like that didn't come from a crash, even I knew that. Those were intentional. But, it wasn't doing us any good scaring the younglings. I quickly commed him to remain silent. He did.

"What happened to you?" I gently asked. The blue femme gave a tired smile and corrected her stance, and I noticed a large scar on her youngling chest plates when the light glinted off the dirty surface. It was slash marks, like something had clawed her open. Two were especially visible, and they traced an X-shape on her chest.

"We managed to escape, it doesn't matter what happened before. My name is Cross. This here is my friend, and her name -" a hiss from her friend silenced her before she could continue. Then she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot. You'll tall them when you want to. But you will have to soon, you know, that's what Sister told us to do. Anyway, there are twenty-four of us altogether."

A growl floated through the air from the purple femme, but Cross didn't seem to mind. Ratchet wasn't going to wait any more than that, however.

"I'm going to have to check you up, Cross. Your wounds aren't immediately life-threatening, but I don't want you to be in any pain. You're safe now," he said, stepping closer. The other femme flinched again, almost as if she was waiting to be struck, but a few caresses from Cross soothed away her irrational fear. Then Cross turned to Ratchet.

"I know what my legs are in need of, but we have a few friends in the ship that are in a bigger need for your talents, if you don't mind. I'm a partially trained medic myself, I know that if my legs aren't repaired soon, I'll lose them. I've already accepted that possibility, although I don't look forward to it," she said, with a smile on her face. It drove shivers up and down my spine to think that a youngling could speak so easily about her losing her way of moving about! Of course, it baffled me that the youngling would actually know stuff like that. My daughter took a step forward, going to help the purple femme with her friend, but I could sense her distress through our bond. She was as alarmed as I was, if not more so.

"Come on, let me help you. You don't look so good," she reasoned with the timid femme. A shivering sigh escaped her lips as she allowed my daughter take a part of the weight. Cross was addressing me again, so I turned to listen to the little femme. Her azure optics held a steady gaze on mine, like she wasn't afraid at all, and they were practically screaming at me that this femme wasn't as helpless as she looked like. It didn't alarm me, instead, it soothed me, somehow.

"Before you go in, you should know something. Our friends inside, they aren't all -" she was cut off by her friend collapsing. Cross gave a strangled sound and almost fell next to her friend, if it wasn't for Kacey she would have. "Hey! Hey, are you okay?" she asked. Her friend shook her head to clear it a bit, then replied, with a voice that told us she hadn't used it in a while.

"Yeah… I think so. Hopefully," and she lifted her head so she could look at her friend.

I was shocked by her voice. It had sounded so horrible, grating like that. But I was even more shocked when I saw her face.

Or, more accurately speaking, her optics.

Optics like two pools of molten steel. Decepticon optics.

* * *

That's the first chapter. I'm open for criticism, even flames, if someone feels the need to bash me verbally. :) Also, if you'd be so kind as to notify me of any and all grammar mistakes or other typos so I can fix them. I don't have a beta yet, so I won't spot everything by myself. Thank you all for reading, though, and I hope that you enjoyed it. I will be continuing this, the next chapter should be up by the end of next week, methinks. So long!


	2. Chapter 2: Hope

First of all… WHAT THE FRAG?!? I actually got REVIEWS! AWESOMENESS IS AWESOME! Thank you sooooooooooo much for taking the time to write them, it had me smiling immediately! And for a long time, too! I'll get right on things, now that I know that people actually have liked this! (Just so you know, I actually screamed from giddiness. And I'm not giddy. Like, ever. And I'm laughing like a little schoolgirl with her first crush right now too! GAAH! I'm scaring myself… again.)

Okay I'm done now. Bottom line is: thank you so much!

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own Transformers or the characters used previously in optimus prime 007's stories. Those characters not recognizable from said creations are mine and shall not be used without asking for permission, which will be granted after asking, no matter who asks. (I know, I'm just stupid that way.) And if I happen to use a name that someone else has used prior to my story in his/her own creations, I sincerely apologize. I'm not attempting to steal anyone's characters.

Oh yeah, I don't know what optimus prime 007 is going to do with Jazz, resurrect him at one point or another or whatever, but in this fic, he's been back on-line and playing loud music for three Earth months. Haha.

On with the story!

* * *

**Ironhide**

For a split second, all I could do was stare at the youngling. Then memories from Venom's sneaky attack flooded my processor.

Like _Pit_ was I going to let _that_ happen again! With a feral snarl, my cannons activated, whirring a dangerous warning to anyone triggering the reaction. I heard Prowl take a step back and drop lower so he'd be readier for any combat. I looked at the little femme. She looked terrified.

And then she screamed.

The sound was almost enough to send my audios off-line! How the frag could someone so small emit something that destructive?! Before I could do anything, she ran back into the ship.

"Ironhide! Prowl! Stand down immediately! You're scaring the younglings!" Ratchet barked, somewhat pointlessly, Captain obvious as he is. I was about to retort when Optimus issued his order.

"Ratchet is right. Stand down; if she wanted to hurt someone, she would have done it when Cross was keeping us distracted. Cross, can you get her out of the ship?"

Cross called to her, but she only received terrified screams as a response. Cross sighed and attempted to free herself from Kacey's supportive hold.

"She won't come out to you by herself. I'm not even sure she'll come out at all anymore… Then again, if that's how you react to anyone with red optics, you shouldn't be here, and we were wrong in bothering you," Cross said. She then, slowly and carefully and in obvious pain, limped her way into the ship. First we heard nothing. Then our audios were assaulted by the older femme's scream.

"An accident?! An _ACCIDENT_?!? Those cannons activating was no accident! That snarl he threw at my face was not an accident! And their looks… Couldn't you see their looks, Cross?! No, the only _accident_ that was made here was us coming in the first place!"

"Please, calm down!"

"Calm down when they're about to take us hostage, make us slaves? What happened to your parents, Cross?! You want that to happen to yourself, too?"

"They were taken prisoner by the Decepticons! These are Autobots, we're safe!" Cross was starting to sound desperate.

"Wrong again, medic! You may be safe, but us… we 'Con-born are most definitely not safe. If anything, we'll be used as pawns to get some Autobot prisoners back. And where does that land me? I'll tell you: _in the same fragging Pit I just managed to escape from!_"

We all heard their… debate… so I wasn't all that surprised to see the dumbfounded looks on my comrades' faces. Ratchet looked thoughtful, and Prowl was attempting to reassure his CPU that this wasn't worth crashing over, and Optimus looked a bit hurt, but I could see that in a minute or so, he'd be attempting another contact.

My comm. link flared to life.

'_Ironhide? What's going on there?'_

'_Easy, Hound. Keep the others at bay, Optimus will handle this one…' _I answered and cut the line. If things got rough, I wanted to be able to immediately protect Optimus and Kacey without distractions.

Wait. Kacey…? Where was the little fragger?!

"Optimus, where is Kaceystar?" Prowl asked. He apparently noticed it, too. Optimus looked around, then seemed to relax.

"She went to negotiate," he simply said. "We should let her do this. She has the best chances at making them trusting again, doesn't she?" he said, looking at Prowl, who nodded. Optimus sighed.

"Ironhide, comm. the troops to know that we will not look any bit threatening to the younglings on board."

"Yes sir," I rumbled and opened to comm. link to Hound to relay the orders. I knew for a fact that this conversation wasn't over.

**Cross**

I didn't know what to do. Nightfall wouldn't listen, she was near hysterics, cowering in a dark corner of the boarding room of the shuttle. I knew that this wouldn't be easy by a long shot, but this was downright ridiculous. If we didn't even bother to try to fit in, we'd have no place to go to! That's where my friend was right – no way in Pit were we going back to where we came from. Not after all the things we had to go through to get out.

No, we were much too good, too proud to do just that. So I kept trying to comfort my panicking friend.

"Nightfall, listen to yourself. You sound like Dead End on a bad day. Honestly, they will not hurt us! Since when have Autobots started to hurt younglings, and innocent ones at that?"

"Innocent? I'm not fragging innocent! I'm the daughter to… to… to an energon-hungry barbaric murderer! Do you think they don't know that?" Ouch, the decibels! Well, at least her screaming had been lessened so that the Autobots didn't have to listen to this argument. I squared my shoulders and attempted – and probably spectacularly failed – to look official and in-control-of-the-situation.

"Nightfall, don't put yourself down. You couldn't do anything to -"

"No I couldn't and that's the worst part of it! I'm not only related to someone like that, I'm also a completely helpless youngling! I'm no good for _anything!_" Nightfall practically screamed. Personally, I thought it was a bit unnecessary, since I _was_ only a yard or two away from her, and I had completely functional audios, as she well knew, despite my outer appearance otherwise.

That aside, she was generally being just plain stupid. What's more, she probably _knew_ she sounded like a pissy sparkling. If she'd had a decent recharge and was in optimum condition in all other aspects too, she would've been laughing her aft off at herself right about now.

Alas, she was completely serious, and I had to fight with myself not to release a tired laugh at her. Then, just as I was about to try and reassure her that no, she wasn't a useless waste of perfectly good flier material, I heard a slight shuffle of feet behind me.

Orns of living in fear of practically anyone and anything told me to dive in some random direction and seek cover, but I subdued them with logic. The Autobots were the only thing outside, and Optimus Prime himself was practically guarding our door himself. Nothing was getting past that. And if it was an Autobot, we shouldn't have anything to worry about.

So, instead of jumping out of my youngling's armor, I strained my neck cabling to see who had entered. I was a bit surprised, really, to see Kaceystar, alone, squinting at the darkness of the small shuttlecraft. I had expected Prime to follow us, but from what I've heard, I shouldn't be all that surprised. After all, according to rumor, Kaceystar truly is her father's daughter. Still, I had expected her not to come alone, at least. _Checking the situation like a leader should before leading the others in_, I thought to myself, then turned back a bit to see Nightfall's reaction to Kaceystar's sudden appearance.

Nightfall let out a strangled gasp and attempted to merge with the wall to get a bit farther from her.

"So you followed? Why would you come alone, though?" I asked, ignoring the warning signals my CPU was bombarding me with. I knew my frame wouldn't take much more before entering stasis lock out of exhaustion, but I wasn't about to just collapse when Nightfall clearly wasn't capable of dealing with Autobots in her off-balanced state. Kaceystar looked at me, re-calibrating her optics so she could make my face out of the darkness.

"Yes, I thought it would be better to leave the mechs behind for a bit. I -" she trailed off and concentrated on something else for a moment. A comm. link, perhaps?

"Sorry," she apologized after a moment, "that was my father. I told him I'm okay, and that we should be left alone for a bit." I couldn't help but let loose a sigh of relief.

"Much appreciated. Why did you come though? I thought your father would be the one coming after us."

"He left to make sure that the others don't look scary when we all come out," she replied with an intense gaze. It didn't take a rocket scientist to catch her implication. We'd be going with them. But, who exactly was we?

"Who do you plan on keeping?" I delicately asked. If they were only planning on taking us Autobot born, such as myself, I'd have to do something. But they are Autobots, a small part of my mind reminded me gently, they'd never leave younglings stranded like that.

Would they?

Kaceystar looked at me like I had just declared I was actually Megatron in a clever disguise. She then frowned.

"What do you mean by that? All of you, of course, if you want to come with us," she said. She almost seemed… offended at the idea of leaving someone behind. I smiled inwardly. Now, if only I could make Nightfall see that…

"What's wrong with her?" Kaceystar asked, motioning to the shivering mess that was my friend huddled in the corner. Nightfall answered with a pitiful squeak, totally not her level.

"She's scared that she and her 'Con-born friends will meet the same fate as those Autobots or Neutrals that are found and caught by the Decepticons. That usually means immediate deactivation or slavery, whichever is more convenient at the time," I dryly answered. I'd seen it far too many times, and I'd even talked with some of the prisoners, listening to their stories of what their lives had been "on the outside". I knew for a fact that Autobots _never_ degraded their prisoners like that. They had a select few interrogations techniques, but that was it. The only way you got killed by an Autobot was in the battlefield. The easiest way to get killed by a Decepticon was to walk by him.

Then I turned back from my musings to look at Kaceystar.

Many emotions flickered through her optics, mainly hurt, anger because I'd suggested the 'Bots do something like that and anger at the 'Cons. Then again, she wasn't really a friend of the 'Cons in the first place, so I suppose at least the last of the emotions was almost always there. At another pathetic whimper from Nightfall, however, yanked her away from her natural offence at the implications and her face settled to a sympathetic look she directed at Night'.

"She shouldn't be afraid of that," she whispered. I looked at her closely. I don't know if they'd already realized Nightfall was offspring to a pair of Seekers or not, but I knew that Autobots knew generally next to nothing about the peculiar breed. What little they knew that was actually correct was mostly about battle tactics and flight maneuvers. I was almost certain they didn't know even the slightest spark about the inner workings of a Seeker's emotional life, or their traditions.

I got another message across my vision from my overly protective CPU stating that if I didn't get off of my legs, they'd buckle under me in the next breem. I suppressed a snarl at the idea and looked around. Spotting a fairly in-one-piece-looking table, I limped my way to it and slumped down, and didn't even bother to choke down the soft moan leaving my vocalizer at having my weight off my legs. Then I motioned Kaceystar to come over to me, to which she quickly obliged.

"Listen, Kaceystar. What do you know about Seekers?" I asked, looking intently straight to her optics. Her optic ridges drew together, and she seemed to seriously consider my question.

"Not much, really. The only Seekers I've met have tried, to the very best of their ability, to off-line me for good. I, of course, only responded in kind."

"Well, you can't take that approach with Nightfall here. She's a Seeker, as you may have noticed already, and their ways vary vastly from ours. You see, she's not only sky-hungry from not being able to fly with her own wings for a -"

"Wait a minute!" Kaceystar exclaimed. I scowled at the interruption, but made no move to hush her. "If she's supposed to be able to fly, where _are_ her wings? And isn't she way too young to fly? What the slag is sky-hunger -? You aren't making much sense, Cross," she said, completely confused. I was getting anxious, since I knew that my own systems would collapse at any given moment. I took a calming cycle of air through my systems to last a bit longer.

"Just… forget about it for a breem, please. You just need to know that she thinks she's responsible for all the things her parents have done in the past, even before her birth. It's a Seeker tradition for younglings to pay the debts – any debts – of their parents, should the parents be unable or unwilling to do it themselves, if they believe they owe someone something. As it is, Nightfall has already been orphaned, and is now responsible for the things they left behind," I tried to explain, but I could see that Kaceystar was having some trouble wrapping her head around the concept.

"You mean to say," she started, "that Nightfall, in the eyes of other Seekers, is responsible for everything her parents ever did?" I nodded. "Even killings?" Another nod. "That's absurd!"

"It's tradition, old, conservative, and yes, absurd, but still tradition. Seekers are actually quite big on that. Anyway, what she needs right now is reassurance and forgiveness from you. All of you," I cleared as I saw her frown. I gave a wry smile. "She won't believe me. Nor will she ask for it. She's too tired and under-energized to think straight, and she's mulling in her self-pity right now. She won't ask for your forgiveness, but not because of arrogance, but because she thinks she doesn't deserve it." I smiled to her tiredly. "Please make her remember that she isn't to blame. Tell her she's forgiven, so we can get out of here. I _do_ want to keep my legs," I added to encourage her. She smirked at me and straightened herself from where she was bowing to hear my quiet words.

Taking a few steps closer, she kneeled next to Nightfall, who had collapsed to the floor again. Night' winced back, but Kaceystar put a comforting hand on her arm.

"You're forgiven."

Nightfall shook like an electric shock had been sent through her frame.

"Wh-What?"

"You have been forgiven," Kaceystar repeated. Nightfall froze and Kaceystar took the moment of tranquility to wrap her arms soothingly around the smaller femme. "It's okay now. I promise it'll be okay. You're okay…"

Nightfall started to sob. I could literally feel the tension in her frame start to pour out. She wrapped her arms around Kaceystar, gingerly at first. I heard heavy footfalls from the doorway, and turned my head to see the four big mechs. I only knew Optimus Prime, but that was enough. He looked confused for a moment, but then seemed to relax.

"It is alright. Kacey is just comforting her. She needs it, or so I'm told," he said, looking at me. I could only smile in response – my vocalizer was cut from my power, I was so low on energy. I barely kept myself on-line! Suddenly I heard a strangled scream from the corner where the two other femmes were hugging each other. It was Nightfall, I could tell without looking.

She had thrown herself at Kaceystar, and was now openly sobbing and bawling her optics out. First her periodical cries sounded like gibberish, but after a little bit of crying, her words became decipherable.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to… I didn't want to… It was just… I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me, don't, don't… don't leave me, please don't…" she cried. I cycled some air through my vents, knowing that she wasn't all there anymore. She kept talking to Kacey while I turned my attention to the medic of the group. I was about to speak when I realized I was too low on energy. _Slag, _I thought. I had to come up with something before both of us went into stasis before we could tell the Autobots how to get into the rest of the ship without blowing it apart with all the booby-traps we set!

Problem was, the edges of my vision were already closing in on my center of vision. I had maybe two astro seconds to come up with a plan worth executing and then actually making it work. I did the only thing I could do with the limited energy I had left. I was suddenly very grateful that along my training, I had been taught to re-route my energy output to the essential things. Such as my vocalizer. Just as I began to give hasty orders to my CPU, it flashed a warning across my quickly fading vision.

_Forced stasis lock in five…_

_FRAGGIT!_** Re-route the energy still channeled to any and all systems unnecessary for survival to vocalizing unit…**

_Four…_

_Oh, slag, slag, slag…!_**Initiating re-route… Taking all rotary and motionary connections and systems off-line, taking all sensors off-line…** I was blind and deaf, but I was about to gain my voice back. For one second, and a half if I got lucky.

_Three…_

_Come ON…!_ **Connection** **found… Connection established, re-routing energy…**

_Two…_

**Action permitted and initiated. Re-route complete.** _GOT IT!_

_One…_

"Hope is here…" I managed to gasp out before I ran out of energy.

_Initiating stasis lock. Disengaging minor CPU functions to conserve energy.__ Disengaging…_

The message faded from me. Everything went silent and black, and I knew no more.

**Ratchet**** (a bit earlier)**

"Optimus, I'm getting worried," Ironhide said for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes. He really didn't trust Decepticons, it seemed, even those not older than younglings. I scoffed at him.

"There is no way they can stop Kaceystar from reaching her father through the bond, unless there's someone else here they are connected to that could prevent that by doing the exact same thing. And Optimus already checked that, so why don't you sit on your aft and be quiet for two minutes, hmm? Do us a favor?" I asked, trying my best to keep my cool for the younglings' sake. From what we heard of their earlier shouting match, the 'Con femme was absolutely terrified.

I couldn't blame her, after the initial reaction she got from Prowl and Ironhide. Especially Ironhide. The mech didn't know how to keep his vocalizer off sometimes. Finally Prowl cracked.

"Optimus, my job as a Second in Command forces me to take a look for myself, if nothing more. I have to know my future Prime is safe," he stated. I took a quick look at his face and snickered. Liar. He didn't give slag for his 2IC job right now, all he wanted was to make sure that Kacey was okay. I Couldn't really bring myself to blame him, as we all were very attached to her. She was our hope, after all.

Besides, if he hadn't said that, I'd have probably come up with a medical sounding lie myself in the next thirty seconds in order to know just what happened in there. We hadn't heard anything in a while, and though I'd never admit it, I was worried too.

"Agreed, we should go," Ironhide threw his two cents to the conversation. Optimus groaned.

"Fine, but no one does anything unless ordered, understand?" and he looked at us like we were some misbehaving younglings. I didn't have any of that!

"Hush, lugnut. If there's a medical situation, I'm not going to wait for anything, and you know that," I said and marched in. I heard a heavy sigh and turned back to see Optimus. Primus the mech looked tired! I was by his side in an instant.

"When was the last time you got a decent recharge again?" I asked with a snarl in my voice. He knew better than to willingly drain himself like that!

"I don't remember. Let's just get this done. Who knows when the 'Cons will decide to pay us a visit…" he mumbled and managed to sail through the door without breaking anything. I quickly commed to Ironhide and Prowl.

'_He's lucky if he can hold out until we get the younglings on board the shuttle. His energy levels are severely under what is considered even relatively healthy.'_

'_Why do you think that is?'_ Prowl asked. I frowned and turned to walk through the doors.

'_Might be because he has to keep you and Red Alert from crashing all the time. And he's stressed about the 'Cons not making a move at all, too. He doesn't know what's going on and he hates it. Our job is to keep him safe until we know more.' _I cut the link and followed Optimus inside.

After my optics got used to the sudden dim lighting, I could make out Cross's frame slouched on what slightly resembled a chair, or maybe a small table. Then I heard a slight hiccup from another corner of the room. I was stumped by what I saw, and I wasn't the only one.

"What is-?" Ironhide started, but Optimus interrupted him.

"It is alright. Kacey is just comforting her. She needs it, or so I'm told." I couldn't tear my optics off of the two femmes. Kacey was doing what she could to make the other one feel better, hugging and comforting her to the best of her ability, and the other one was babbling something incoherent. I did a quick scan on them both. As I thought, the young femme's damages weren't severe or dangerous, but I did want them cleaned up so she wouldn't get an infection to her energon stream from anywhere. Also, she was _way_ under-energized. I quickly commed Sockets and First Aid to prepare emergency energon drips as well as low-grade cubes. It wouldn't do for the younglings to get too strong stuff right after starving for a long time, as I suspected.

After deeming the two alright for the moment, I turned and performed the same scans on Cross. The results were bad.

"Optimus! Cross is fading fast, her energy levels just dropped! I can barely get a reading of any of her systems!" I barked and ran to her side. Her optics were off-line, and she wasn't looking good. I made a few deeper scans that showed something I'd dreaded – her limbs weren't getting any energy. I was just about to start issuing orders to Sockets via comm. link when Cross made a small sound. I leaned in to listen.

"Hope is here."

"What?" I questioned. She didn't answer anymore, and it didn't take a CMO to know that she had hit stasis. I sighed and scanned her regardless, to make sure she didn't have any danger.

After making sure Cross wasn't going to off-line on us, I turned to the other two femmes in the room. Kacey had finally managed to calm the little 'Con femme down enough to stop her wailing and stay quiet. Both were now watching Cross intently, worry etched to their faces.

"Calm down," I told them sternly, shaking them out of their frozen state, "she's just in stasis because her energy levels dropped too low." Then I crouched in front of the slightly shaking 'Con-born.

"What's your name? We have to be able to call you by some name, it won't do for us to just call you 'the little femme', much less 'Decepticon'." I smiled, trying to make her feel a little better.

She looked at Kacey, and who gave a radiant smile like only she can back, encouraging the younger one. Said youngling turned back to me, and gave what tried to – possibly – be a smile.

"My name is Nightfall."

I nodded, storing away the little piece of valuable information while scanning her. Her voice was even hoarser than it had been outside. I supposed it was understandable, since she'd been screaming, crying or both almost the whole time after her flight from outside. The fact that her vocalizer was on-line at all was a minor medical miracle by itself! _Before treating her, however, I have a few questions to ask_, I thought to myself and frowned at the results my scans showed. I checked our surroundings to see what the other mechs were doing.

I heard more than saw them scuffle around, surveying the damage done to the vessel and contemplating if some part of it or another was salvageable. I then kneeled next to the crouching femmes.

"Nightfall, can you explain why there's a massive energon leakage in your upper back?" I asked as gently as I could. I had yearned to just turn her around to see it for myself, but the trembling in her frame told me that if I tried a stunt like that, I'd have her in hysterics in a record time.

Hearing my question, Kacey gasped and Nightfall's lower lip started a tell-tale trembling that meant she was slipping again. I had no clue why they reacted like that, and it must've showed on my face plates, because Kacey nudged my arm to direct my gaze into her optics.

"Ratchet," she began, "she's a Seeker." As if that explained everything. Then I realized what she implied. As a medic, I knew a bit about Seeker physique, and I knew for a fact that all Seekers had wings from the second they were sparked. And if Nightfall _was_, in fact, a Seeker, then…

… where the _frag_ where her wings!?

Knowing now that it was serious, I dropped my guard completely and turned my stronger sensors on-line. Damaged wings were about as much fun as having Megatron's fusion cannon up one's aft, and then having him fire it. I swore when I got the results.

Both of her wings had been partially ripped off, leaving only little stubs mounted on her back. _That explains the energon loss on this youngling_, I reasoned, _wings have a few really important energon lines in them, and now they are severed. _Not fun to have, not fun to fix. Then again, it was better this way. Wounds like these would be easy enough to repair, since they weren't all that different from pierced limbs. If they had been completely ripped off, joints and all, I could already have been too late.

"So you want something for the pain?" I asked, knowing it had to hurt and wondering how the youngling was so quiet. I had known fliers that had gotten shot through their wings, and they had _screamed_ in agony, yet this youngling didn't even so much as peep as I probed the damage carefully around her back. She was unwilling to turn and expose herself to surprise attacks from behind just yet.

"It's okay, Cross took my pain receptors off-line," she explained, just loud enough for me to hear her whispered words.

"Ratchet, what are yo-?"

"Would you do me a favor, Ironhide, and weld your mouth shut for the next ten minutes?" I asked as pleasantly as I could while fishing a laser scalpel and a welder from sub-space. "I need to tend to her. Her wings have been partially torn off, probably from the impact. If you want to be _useful_, try to help me decipher what 'hope is here' means or get Cross out of here and to Sockets or First Aid."

He knew better than to get angry or argue, so he turned around to walk over to Cross, and proceed to pick her up. Then he left the vessel, and I notified First Aid that he'd be getting a patient in a minute with severe loss of energon and instructed him to prepare her for surgery on her mangled legs once we got back to the base. I couldn't perform such a delicate operation fully in these conditions, even if I had the right equipment with me – which I didn't.

I turned my focus back to my current problem, Nightfall. Her head was already drooping, and she was obviously fighting a losing fight against stasis. I shook her gently, and her blood-red optics made contact with mine.

"Cross said 'hope is here', before she fell to stasis. What did she mean?" I made sure I sounded calm and clear, so her hazy processor could understand the question. After a second she seemed to register that she'd just been asked a question, making her start a bit. She shook her head to clear it.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. I seem to be falling to recharge for some reason… Could you please repeat the question?" she requested, slurring over the phrases like it was a chore to get them out right. I took her shoulders between my hands ad made sure her attention was on me and me only before repeating myself as asked.

"What did Cross mean by saying 'hope is here'?" I asked. She started to talk, but it came out as some random strings of noises. She frowned to her inability to express herself correctly and tried again.

"Go to the wall furthest from the door outside and knock on it twice. Answer 'Hope is here' to their question and they shouldn't set the traps on your afts," she said.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Whatever Kacey had done in order to comfort the young Seeker, coupled with the fact that her recharging systems kicking in were making her drowsy, was definitely letting her true personality flash through her scared and reserved appearance. I quickly relayed the information to Optimus and, hearing them move over to the designated wall, began my own work. The stubs were bleeding energon and other fluids all over the place, having probably been reopened by her fall to the ground or perhaps by her escape back into the ship after Ironhide and Prowl gave her that scare.

'_Optimus, she needs medical care. I have to stay here to tend to her.'_

'_You can't, you are needed to see if the others are okay. Get Sockets to see to her needs. I need you with me,'_ he commed right back. I internally snarled, not liking the idea at all, but complied. I don't go against my Prime except when the issue concerns a medical emergency or when he's being a slag-head about his maintenance check. I opened the comm. link to Sockets.

'_Sockets, leave Cross to First Aid and come here, Optimus __needs me. Your patient has the following conditions: severe under-energization, exhaustion, remains of massive stress messing with her neural network and badly damaged wings, only stubs remain on her back. The right wing-joint has minor fracturing and the plating above it has dented badly, it'll have to be removed and replaced. It hinders her movement considerably. Get over here and bring a drip with you – she might need it. Scratch that, bring more than one drip, and some cubes too, and mechs that can do some basic repairs. Hound and Jazz at least, and a few errand mechs. I don't know how severe the condition of others on the ship is, but judging by these two, it isn't going to be pretty. Hurry!'_

'_Roger!'_ Sockets acknowledged me and cut the link.

I cycled air through my vents once to ease myself a bit and left the young Seeker, who had finally collapsed under the stress and surrendered to stasis, to lie on her side so she wouldn't damage her wings – or whatever was left of them – any further before Sockets got his aft here. Then I turned my attention to Kacey. The poor femme was clearly worrying over the two immensely.

"Come on," I told her with a gentle nudge, "We should check on the others. These two will live."

"But will they be okay? Will she fly again?"

I knew why she was so worried about the other's ability to fly. It was no secret around the base that there were few things Kaceystar enjoyed as much as she enjoyed flying, so naturally, being the caring young femme she was, she couldn't help but hope that I'd be able to fix Nightfall's wings and so restore her ability to rise up to the sky again. I smiled.

"Yes, she'll fly. They're both going to make a full recovery," I promised.

That was enough for her, as she quickly got up and went to her father and Prowl who already stood by the seemingly solid wall across the door outside. I steeled myself in preparation for seeing more injured younglings and, perhaps, even sparklings. I shuddered at the thought before getting up and making my way over to them.

Primus, I sometimes positively _hated_ my job!

**Kaceystar**

Ratchet's reassurances did little to my mood, but I had to keep going. Cross had said that there were twenty-four of them altogether, so twenty-two when Nightfall and Cross were out. My father and Prowl were looking at the plain wall intently.

"Father, did Ratchet already tell you what you should do?" I asked. He turned his deep blue optics to meet mine.

"Yes, he did. We were just waiting for you."

"And speculating what waits us behind this thing," Prowl said. I could tell he really disliked the idea of going somewhere he didn't know what to expect in. I smiled to him, trying to reassure the mech. I swear, Prowl had become so much more careful ever since Jazz was resurrected. All in all, he'd gotten more personality, and wasn't all about cold logic anymore. I suppose he couldn't help it, after all, Jazz _was _a powerful and joyful personality, and it affected those around him.

Father knocked on the wall twice. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, I heard a light sound from behind the wall, and a muffled voice called out.

"Who goes there?"

It was too distorted to decipher whether it was a mech's or a femme's voice, but it was high-pitched enough to be a youngling's. Father answered.

"Hope is here."

"You're not Hope," the voice accused. "We open to no one but Hope!"

My patience was running thin. They were probably injured, and now they only opened to a specific mech?! Nightfall had said they'd let us in! Besides, I didn't think I'd ever even heard of a mech called Hope!

"Hey! Who is this Hope you speak of?" I wanted to know. It was silent on the other side.

"Is that… Is it Kaceystar?" the voice asked tenderly. I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes.

"Yes! Now can you please tell me where I can –?"

The rest of my question was swallowed by an almighty screech of metal as the wall suddenly slid back a bit, then folded in on itself. Before I could make out what just happened, a small blur of color zoomed from the now-revealed room and attached itself to my middle, startling both me and the three mechs with me.

"ImsohappywefoundyouImsogladIcoulddancethankyouthankyouthankyou…" the blur… no, the little mech droned. When he did let me go, he beamed at me and heaved a great sigh. "My name is Fast Forward. Nice to meet you, I've been looking forward to seeing our Hope in person!"

Wait, what? Our Hope…? And he was addressing me? He offered no explanation, only another big smile. Then he looked around, and spotted Nightfall on the ground. He gasped and ran over to her.

"OhmyPrimus! What happened to her?" he said, looking over the prone form. Sockets chose that moment to enter.

"Alright, where's the little flie- WHOA!" he nearly fell when Fast Forward ran to him, checking him out.

"You're a medic, yeah? Take care of her please, I gotta make sure these others don't spook my friends okay thanks byeee!" he said and then peeled off back to us. He took my hand and beamed again. "This way! You get to meet _all_ the others."

The next few minutes were a blur of introductions to scared little younglings and sparklings, medical examinations and general chaos. In the end, Ratchet reported that seven younglings had suffered severe injuries and would require immediate attention when he got back to base. Two of the six sparklings were almost totally energon deprived, so they were attached to energon drips immediately and taken to the shuttle. Two of the older younglings were off-line due to head injury from the crash to Earth, but other than that, there were only a few fractures and some dents on them all. Surprisingly, none of the younglings were in immediate danger of going off-line, and none of them had perished during their less-than-gentle landing on Earth, either. Nevertheless, father ordered them taken to our shuttle for transportation while Prowl commed the base so they'd send another, bigger shuttle to retrieve the mechs that had to stay behind (the shuttle wasn't big enough) and salvage what they could from the 'Con vessel.

The younglings themselves behaved rather nicely. The Autobot-born were reasonably calm and collected, and some even managed to go to recharge without help from sedatives. But the 'Con-born were absolutely terrified. Two of the older femmes had to be forcibly restrained and sedated after they freaked at seeing twenty-and-then-some Autobot soldiers waiting for them. They were now in a secluded corner of the shuttle, and Ratchet had made sure that they'd be able to recharge the whole way back.

As for Cross and Nightfall, they had been with Ratchet ever since boarding the ship. All three of our medics were doing the best they could to get the femmes back in working order. As for Fast Forward, he was being worse than Leo after too many energon goodies! If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Bluestreak and Blurr somehow managed to get a sparkling! I gently said his name to stop his ranting next to me. He was one of the lucky ones, and barely had a scratch on him.

"How did you manage to escape from the 'Cons?" I asked. His azure optics adapted a mischievous look and he smiled slyly.

"Oh, but it isn't my place to tell you, Hope. If anyone, Cross is entitled to do just that," he said, looking at the corner where Ratchet was working on the femme's thigh and the hole it sported.

"Okay, I give. But why do you insist on calling me Hope?" I tried to pry more information from him. I figured it was the best thing I could do, since father and Prowl were talking about where and how to house the new additions and Ironhide was busy watching over the younglings, as was everyone else. Fast Forward's giggles caught my attention.

"You _are_ Hope! So I call you Hope. Isn't that the logical thing to do?" he asked, confusing me even more.

'_I really have to ask some questions from Cross about this strange, misfit group of younglings,'_ I thought to myself as the shuttle started to land. I could see my mother and my siblings on the ground, waiting for us. I send them my love and the warning not to do anything rash. I received their love etched with confusion, but I decided to ignore it. The surprise on their faces would be worth it.

"Okay, Fast Forward," I said, lifting his spindly frame up to look through the window overlooking our base, "Welcome to the Autobot base, my home."

* * *

I got to tell you, people, Fast Forward was a spin-of-the-moment. I don't think I've ever created a character that fast. And by Primus I love the little mech! He's an adorable piece of over-charged machinery! Anyway, next up is the introductions, and Cross gives some light to the situation they are in.


	3. Chapter 3: Housing the Newcomers

Thanks for the reviews again, you know I appreciate it. I won't keep you long, but I do want to apologize. I got waaaay too much work all of a sudden, when my partner (?!) left for a week – and dumped all her work on my aft! 10 hours a day for six days straight doesn't do one any good, mark my words, especially when you don't really have any pauses… Okay, so I wrote this whilst working, and then re-typed it on the computer from the note-book. I ask you to appreciate it, because it stands in the rules of my working place that we shouldn't really have anything to do there except the work. So if my boss finds out, I'm out of work! Then again, it's almost the start of school, meaning no more work for this lady! ;) Gah, too much stuff here again. I'll update as soon as possible, I shouldn't be overly busy now… Enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER**: I own nothing, 'cept the younglings from the ship (check the earlier chaps if you, for some odd reason, don't have a clue what I'm talking about).

How to read the lines: :_bond talk:_,_ 'comm-link talk'_, "normal talk", _thoughts_

_

* * *

_

**Optimus**

Primus I was tired.

I could barely focus on what Prowl was telling me about how we should accommodate the new additions to our own younglings. I have to admit, none of us had seen this coming. How probable was this, anyway? A whole shipful of sparklings, over half of which were Decepticons by heritage, or 'Con-born as they called themselves, and the rest Autobots or children of the few Neutrals that still hid somewhere, land on Earth on a Decepticon vessel and alert us by using technology they shouldn't know anything about!

I briefly wondered if Prowl would be able to calculate the probability for me, but after glancing at his face, took two mental steps back in my musings. I could imagine this doing a number on Prowl's logic circuitry already, so I decided against asking for the sake of not having an overly pissed Ratchet on my case for crashing our tactician after he'd been able to take everything in stride up until this point.

Then I realized I hadn't heard Prowl talk for a few minutes. _Slaaaaag._ I looked at him, already knowing what I'd see.

I was right. He was scowling at me, clearly unimpressed by the fact that I hadn't paid enough attention to him.

"I'm sorry, Prowl, could you repeat the last bit?" I asked meekly, hoping to Primus above that he wouldn't ask anything.

Either Primus was on vacation or was having way too much fun watching me suffer, I'll never know which, but my prayers went unanswered.

"From where, Prime? What's the last bit you remember me telling you?" he asked, steel evident in his voice. I grimaced.

"The point where you were telling me about where we will arrange the sleeping quarters to the younglings?" It came out as a question, and Prowl's scowl darkened to an outright glare.

"That was almost ten minutes ago."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." He then looked at me like he saw me for the first time that day. "Optimus, are you alright? You look like you could recharge standing up." I waved a hand, attempting to dismiss both the comment and my obvious exhaustion, but only managed to emphasize it with my sluggish movements. Cursing my inability to move right, I squared my shoulders and straightened my posture, trying to look like I was alert and ready for anything.

Truth be told, the only thing I was really ready for was falling to recharge. Anywhere, as long as it was now. I'd probably have started to snore even if my brother decided to shoot the ship from somewhere!

I was just about to start coming up with almost credible lies to assure Prowl that I wasn't about to fall into stasis when the inner communications of the ship saved my aft.

"Crew, prepare for landing in two breems."

"Well, we'll be home in a minute, so I suggest we start preparing the others for the initial shock. Prowl, please establish a link to the Command Center and make sure Blaster sent that other shuttle to collect the other half of our forces from the vessel and have him notify the troops that no one is to draw weapons when we come in. Some of the younglings are still more than skittish, and we don't want them to have a full-blown panic attack when we reach the base. Oh, and make sure the twins aren't there," I added as an after-thought. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were, to be sure, a formidable force on the battlefield and good mechs, but I wouldn't entrust them with 'Con-born younglings to safe my life. Their hatred for the 'Cons could become a problem.

Before we landed, I wanted to make sure that no youngling had taken any backtracks concerning their recovery. So I made my way to Ratchet, who was still struggling with Cross's thigh. It puzzled me to notice that, since it was the thing he'd been working on the entire time we were on-board. I voiced my thoughts to him and received a snort in response, something any other officer apart from him and Ironhide, the guardians of my younglinghood, would have gotten a talking over.

"I don't have the right equipment with me, and it was more serious than I thought. Even though the energon lines in her leg, the ones that are large enough to really do damage if punctured, are fine, one of the main coolant lines is ruptured, and if that doesn't get repaired soon, she'll lose her leg or overheat her entire body, messing up her wiring big time," Ratchet grunted. I was quite surprised to hear so much from our medic. Usually he just told any questioner to frag off and let him do his job in peace.

This wasn't good, but I wouldn't be able to help him. So I acknowledged his words with a nod and made one last question before leaving.

"What about the other younglings? Nightfall and the other critical patients?"

"I don't know. Ask Sockets or First Aid and leave me alone!"

Ah, there he was. He wasn't cursing, but I supposed you couldn't have everything immediately. So I made my way to the junior medics.

"First Aid, how are the younglings?" I asked. He was currently working on a young mech with a large gash in his side. The youngling was in stasis and probably sedated, and First Aid seemed pretty engrossed in his work. It took him a few seconds to register that he'd been spoken to. He started when he did.

"OH! Oh, sorry, Optimus, I was a bit occupied. He'll live, that's for sure, and the little femme with the bang to the head is making a nice recovery, although I imagine she'll be a bit woozy when she comes to, probably sometime next week," he added dryly.

"What happened to her, and what can we expect from her? Will she make a full recovery as well? Have her processes been damaged in any way unrepairable?" I wanted to know. Before he could answer, the shuttle touched down with a slight tremor through its frame and Ratchet stood up from where he had been working.

"Alright, I want all nine critical patients to the med ASAP! First Aid and Sockets, you take care of those not as injured, I have to go immediately with the big injuries," he ordered his subordinates and placed Cross on a stretcher. The other eight younglings were also put on portables and rushed out before anyone else, with Ratchet in the lead and yelling everyone to make a path. Sockets and First Aid woke up the few younglings who had deemed the shuttle and the situation in general safe enough to recharge and escorted them out of the ship. The rest of the Autobots took the six sparklings we saved and carried them away. At least they were quiet.

As I watched everything happen, I couldn't stifle back a yawn that had persistently tried to pry its way out for a good long while. I immediately felt my bonded reach out to me.

_:Are you alright, Optimus?:_

_:Yes, I just need some rest. How are the children?:_

_:Good as ever. Now, how about you explain why you saw it fit to leave me alone with the younglings and take Kacey with when you knew that it could well have been a dangerous mission?:_ There was no mistaking the tone she used. I was so slagged it already hurt! I held back a groan of protest at my misfortune: I already annoyed my SIC, and now my bonded, as expected, was quite ready to chew my aft off, and not in a nice way either.

_:I'll be right there to explain everything. Please wait a moment, I'll fetch Kacey. She must've gone off again, probably to see if the younglings are okay.:_

_:Wait what? Younglings? Optimus Prime, you are coming here this instant and filling me in on this!:_

_:Just a moment, love, you'll know in a minute. Please have some patience.:_ I pleaded her over the bond. After a moment of nothing, she sent her love to me, along with the promise of pain later on if I failed to come to her fast enough.

Primus knows I love that femme, but he also knows she's as feisty as they get! Part of why I love her so, too.

I quickly reached out to Kacey to see where she was, but I didn't get a reply through our bond.

"Right here, father. I was just showing Fast Forward around," she explained from behind me. I turned and saw the over-active little mechling perched on her shoulders, looking everywhere at once, or at least making a very good attempt of it. He reminded me of Leo when he was a bit younger.

"Hey, Hope, who's that?" he suddenly asked and pointed toward the entrance to the base. I followed his gaze and immediately knew who he was talking about.

"Oh that's Jetfire, my father's cousin and our Aerial Commander," my daughter explained readily. I felt a small surge of pride shoot through my spark at the sight of her holding the younger one. She was a true natural born leader, as far as my opinion was concerned. So ready to help, eager to explain and never one to leave anyone behind. And she'd only known this little mech for a few hours! I had a feeling she'd do anything and everything in her power to make sure that the younglings were welcomed nicely.

Fast Forward changed his position in her arms and pointed to where Sockets was desperately trying to assure some Seekers that it was safe.

"I just thought that he would be better at that than the medic, no offence intended," he said. Kacey frowned.

"Jetfire's nice and all, but I don't know if that would be such a good idea. Form what I see, you all seem to be quite timid, and Jetfire has a really powerful presence. I doubt introducing him to nearly hysteric Seekers would be such a good idea. Besides, Sockets knows what he's doing. He's one of the best medics I know," Kacey defended, but only received a nonchalant shrug from the young Bot.

"Suit yourself, but this is something that the Seekers have as a special trait, again. You see, they tend to flock to each other, and are attracted to others with wings. You don't _really_ have to be a Seeker to earn their affections or trust; you just have to have wings. Unfortunately, that's the body part your medic, good as he is, lacks, and that Jetfire character most obviously has them," the mech explained, suddenly terribly interested in his hands. "Besides," he continued after a small pause, "this is going better than Cross said we should expect. You see, now they at least all move as a -"

A scream suddenly cut through the air like a razor, nearly knocking my audios off-line.

"AAAAH GET OFF ME!!!"

I whirled around to see what could have caused such a reaction, and was met with a rather unusual sight. Two Seeker femmes, white and blue, were almost kneeling in front of the shuttle we had just come from, and a third one, green, was hissing and clawing at anyone coming close. The blue femme stepped forth.

"Now, Wingslide, you know we're safe here, Cross said so herself, and so did the Sisters that sent us to these people…"

"They were wrong! They were so, so terribly, horribly wrong! We should never have come, we are doomed, we won't survive and we'll become their slaves and -"

"Shut up, 'Wing! They won't enslave us, they're Autobots, for Pit's sake… If they were planning that, they wouldn't have helped Cross!" the white one, obviously the leader, at least judging by her posture and the way the other two looked at her, snapped. The green one, Wingslide, remained undeterred.

"Y-Yeah? Well, she's a Bot-born, they're probably going to adopt her or something…"

The supposed leader, who was apparently starting to get more than a little frustrated with her underlings moaning, darkened her look.

"Really? Then how, pray tell, do you explain their medic zooming off to Primus knows where with both Cross _and_ 'Fall in tow? And I swear to the Matrix and back, if you even consider spouting off another less-than-believable theory of Autobots enslaving younglings, then so help me I will tear off your wings and shove them so far up your exhaust that not even _Patch_ would find them, were she here to do the digging required!"

That shut the youngling up, but she didn't budge. The white one heaved a sigh and whispered something to her friend. The blue one shrugged and went to comfort her comrade-in-hysterics while the white one sauntered off to cool down. Jetfire had most obviously heard the commotion and was on his way to us.

"Wonder how we can help…" he said, a concerned look on his face. I know for a fact that he really had a soft spot for all the younglings, and seeing a fellow winged Cybertronian, and a youngling, no less, in distress must have been hard on him.

"Maybe you can be of more help than you realize," Fast Forward said. At Jetfire's confused look, Kacey decided to elaborate.

"Fast Forward thinks that -"

"I don't think. I know," he intervened proudly. Kacey smirked.

"Okay, so Fast Forward _knows_ that you might be more successful than Sockets when trying to calm down any anxious or somehow disturbed winglets. He says they relate better to mechs and femmes with wings."

Jetfire thought about it for a minute, and then flashed a smile.

"Sure, I think I can do it. But," his face sobered, "will they let me go near them? I'm pretty known, and I think that my doings have spread through the ranks of the 'Cons quite fast. They could very well just spook more," he said, his optics glowing a bit more dimly.

"Naw, I doubt it, really."

Jetfire looked at Fast Forward, a silent question in his optics.

"I mean, above all, Seekers are, believe it or not, extremely affectionate. If you go there and play it really cool, stay open and friendly and ready to show affection, they'll trust you. But if you hesitate one bit, they will suspect something bad. If you really want to help those younglings, you're going to have to get close. Real close." Fast Forward smirked, and Jetfire's optics narrowed in suspicion.

"How close, exactly? And what do you mean, affectionate? Not to say you are a bad judge, but I've been fighting Seekers for the better part of my life. They are NOT affectionate, unless they count launching rockets at each other affectionate."

"Aah, but you've only met Seekers that have been corrupted by Megatron. In fact, the other Seekers no longer recognize them as their kin." Another shrill scream tore through the air. Fast Forward winced and looked at Jetfire. "You should hurry. I think she's getting too scared to be helped, and that will affect the others, too."

My cousin didn't bother to answer, and instead made his way to the wailing youngling and her trine. I couldn't hold back another hefty sigh, but this one was accompanied by a yawn. Kacey glanced at me.

"Father, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fi-iiiiiine…" I yawned again. She made a face that clearly said 'come on, you can do better than that' and cocked her optic ridge. I chuckled and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, bowing down so I could whisper in her audio.

"Don't tell your Mom, but I'm really recharge deprived. When this is at least in control, somewhat, I'm going to go and get some recharge."

"You shouldn't be worrying about mother, father," she smirked, still holding Fast Forward close so that he heard everything we said, "She will not dismantle you if she finds out you are a little worse for wear. She's used to that, although she may not like it. The one you have to look out for is Ratchet."

"Oh, I can handle the old fragger. He'd _only_ dismantle me, anyway. Your mother, however…" I shivered and left the end hanging. Kacey shuddered and I knew she could well imagine what my beloved – but undeniably fierce – bondmate would do.

"Point taken," she said, and the little mech in his arms tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle. She smiled, but her face turned grim again when she looked at Jetfire, who was cautiously approaching the young Seekers.

"Do you think he'll be alright?"

I pretended to think for a minute. Jetfire was as prone to getting in trouble and fights as Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper combined, but he'd managed to stay alive and well for a remarkably long time for one with his manners and lifestyle. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled a few tight spots he'd dragged me into with him.

"Trust me, Kacey," I started, "a couple of distraught femme Seeker younglings aren't going to be his doom. If he's ever going to off-line, it's going to be because of his own screw-ups, not because of some outside force. He's too much of a slagger to go down like that," I smiled fondly.

* * *

**Jetfire**

"Hey, is everything okay here?" I asked as I made my way to the troubled Seekers. I got looks varying from scared to confused to annoyed for the effort of the inquiry.

_Well this is starting well,_ I thought to myself and grimaced inwardly.

"No, everything isn't okay here. Can you _please_ try and speak some sense into my whacked-out wing-sister here? She's convinced that you Autobots have ulterior motives in saving us, and won't take her wing-leader's word for it being a false accusation." She frowned at her friend, Wingslide, who only cowered in response. I remembered Fast Forward's advice and knelled down to look less menacing or big or whatever it was they were scared of. Then I flashed the friendliest, most non-offensive smile I could muster.

"Hiya, there, kiddo. What's your name?"

I got a whimper. I kept smiling as nicely as I could, though.

"It's okay, young wingling. I promise. What has you so scared? Did someone threaten you when you were in the shuttle?" I asked, mentally preparing to give an aft-whooping if someone really had intentionally scared the little femme. She was a youngling, for frag's sake, not an enemy 'Con preparing to fire! She was too young to be a 'Con soldier, anyway…

_What about your cousin's son, then? He was a youngling when he attacked Optimus, remember?_

I squashed the thought the moment it surfaced. Venom was a totally different case; these younglings had nothing what-so-ever to do with him or what he did.

I was ripped from my thoughts by her shaky answer.

"No, s-sir… Everyone was… was quite… nice to me… and my trine!" she added quickly.

Well, at least I got her to talk. The other two of her trine finally caught on my attempts to get their wing-sister to trust us and went to help me. The scared youngling visibly relaxed when her wing-mates starter to caress her helm, wings and back affectionately. I took it as my cue to try and coax her into following the other younglings deeper into the base.

"I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. Will you please come with me so we can get some energon for you and your trine-mates? After that, I'll leave you for a nice, long recharge, and I'll make sure that no one uninvited will be able to come to you. Please, won't you all three come with me? Trust me?" I tried with my most persuasive tone of voice.

For a moment, nothing happened. The femmes remained unnaturally still and silent, but then their leader stirred.

"Okay, we will come with you." I looked at her shivering and shaking friend questioningly. She noticed and gave a small smile, much to my joy. "All of us."

Then she moved closer to me and stretched her arms out. I remembered Fast Forward's words again and let the young Seeker hug me. After she was done, the blue one came and did the same, a big smile on her faceplates. Finally, Wingslide took three careful steps and cautiously let me embrace her. I murmured promises of safety and protection in her audio, and she sniffed a little. When I pulled back, she reluctantly let go, and I saw there were tears in her optics, threatening to fall. I carefully wiped them away and smiled at the trio.

"Okay, let's get you all fed and to rest. I'll alert someone to --"

"NO!" the green one cried. I was surprised. Wasn't she just calming down? I got my answer when she flung herself on me and held tightly to my waist crying.

"Shh, baby, what's wrong?" I asked, totally puzzled by her sudden outburst. My only answer was more despairing wails and I could, after a few screams, make out a few words from the scream.

"Don't abandon us! Not again!" she wailed.

"Abandon? I would never --"

"But you just said so! You said you'd have someone else take care of us!"

I could tell she was nearing another one of her enslaving-Autobots –theories, so I quickly back-tracked to calm her down.

"What I meant to say was that I'd alert someone to get the energon for me so that we can avoid the more densely populated areas of the base, such as the recreation room. Does that sound good?" I asked, hoping to Primus above the femmes would buy my pathetic, make-shift excuse for my slip.

They did, and I had to suppress a big sigh of relief. I stood up and started to guide them towards Sockets and his quickly set up med station. While we walked, I was told the names of the other two trine-members. The leader's name was Suntop, and the blue one was called Dodge. Wingslide still insisted on holding on to my hand, but I managed to get them to move to where Sockets was checking the younglings for any damage the medics might have missed while performing hasty, superficial scans in the field or in the shuttle.

I was confused for a moment: wasn't Wheeljack supposed to be here, helping Sockets with the task? I approached the young medic, who was currently working on a little Seeker mech with a dented wing. The youngling was in deep recharge, and I could understand the reason as to why perfectly.

Do you have wings? No? Then let me tell you, from experience, that even banging them somewhere hurts like Pit, let alone denting them. Sockets was right to put the mech under for the check-up. He would have been screaming in agony if he were conscious.

"Hey, Sockets, where's 'Jack? Wasn't he supposed to be here too, helping you out with all these kids?" I inquired when I knew he'd hear me. He glanced up at me, and went back to work on the wing.

"He was here, but we had a little bit of a situation. After he got the sparklings checked or injuries, one of them woke up and started screaming. The others, naturally, woke up too, and joined the chorus. That made six screaming sparklings and another dozen or so skittish or recharging younglings, so Wheeljack thought it best to take the sparklings to Moony. Lucky for us," he continued, probably sensing my up-coming question about the welfare of the sparklings, "they all survived the crash with only scrapes, so they only have to be cleaned, fed and put to recharge, and I know I can't think of anyone better to do it than Moonracer, except maybe Akima. Those two femmes are naturals when it comes to sparklings and taking care of them," he smiled. I had to agree: even though femmes in general were better with sparklings than the average mech, those two almost sensed what a young one needed before the need actually hit the sparkling itself!

"Is he going to be okay?" Dodge asked from her position next to me, although in my opinion it was a miracle Sockets heard her at all, what with how quiet she was.

Meh, medics and their enhanced receptors…

"Yes, he'll make a full recovery, I think, but he's going to be sore all over for a few days," he said, and then paused for a second. "Are you three okay now? Feeling better and all?"

"Yes sir, we apologize for any inconveniences we might've caused," Suntop spoke up, casting a sharp glance at her green "sister" who was still busy clinging to my arm.

Sockets shook his head.

"No, no, you misunderstand my purpose. I didn't mean the, uh, episode just now, I meant your general well being. It is my job, so it is far from inconvenient anyway. Do you think I could give you three a few scans? We need to know if you need treatment."

"We are fine," Wingslide answered – a tad bit too quickly for it to be believable. Sockets apparently reached the same conclusion, as he raised an optic ridge that said it all.

"Really now?" he asked, and the little Seekeress managed to look sheepish. Sockets sighed and leaned back, seemingly finished with the youngling mech's wings. He took a deep breath and then nailed the three juvenile fliers on the ground with a steady look.

"I cannot, and will not, force you to be examined, bit if something really _is_ wrong, it could get really tricky to fix if we postpone it too much. For example," he looked up, as if he was contemplating whether he should have a normal drink or go for high grade, "if your inner workings have been damaged, it could later result to extensive, and possibly unrepairable, damage. For instance, should the minor energon lines in your wings have ruptured, or just cracked, it would, if left untreated, result in inner bleeding. Not only would you gradually start to feel weaker and less responsive, the excess energon dripping out of the lines would build pressure on your wing-joints over time, causing extreme displeasure, or down-right pain. If you still refused treatment, or didn't seek it for one reason or another, it could result to your wings malfunctioning. At worst, we might even have to amputate your wings."

He looked at the three now horrified Seekers, and gave a slight, wry smile. "Good news is, however, you'd live through it. You'd just never fly again."

I was stumped! Sockets, perhaps the most gentle medic we had, next to First Aid, was just slamming down gruesome scenarios to youngling femmes like he were talking about the weather, with no regrets or second thoughts! I was about to start consoling the little femmes when the vice-like grip on my arm suddenly loosened.

"Umm, Mr. Medic, sir, can you please check that I'm okay?" she timidly asked. Sockets just smiled warmly.

"Sure I can. Come here and sit, I'll run a few scans, and if something weird shows up, I'll let you know and then I'll fix it."

"What if you can't fix it?" she asked, clearly frightened by the idea of losing her wings. Sockets gently but firmly took her by her shoulders and turned her so he could look straight to her optics.

"If I, for some reason, can't fix it, I bet that my mentor and our CMO, Ratchet, can. He can fix anything," Sockets assured. The Seekeress turned her head to look at me for confirmation. I offered her a smile.

"He's right, Ratchet's a miracle worker when it comes to repairs. He's the best medic in the whole universe, and you can ask any Autobot that!"

This was enough to satisfy the skittish Seekeress who settled down for the scans, and let Sockets begin his work.

I was still more than a bit puzzled by his earlier behavior, especially since he returned to his usual, compassionate and friendly manner just as fast. Then it dawned on me.

The fragger really _was_ one of Ratchet the Hatchet's pupils!

I had to force my laughter down when I realized how he had just brilliantly tricked the femmes into having their check-ups as fast as possible. By painting such a scary would-be situation of their fates should they decide not to be checked, head gotten them thinking that it might be best to at least temporarily trust an unknown Autobot mech if it meant saving their wings. _In some ways_, I decided, _Sockets is even more dangerous than the notoriously vicious Ratchet the Hatchet, Menace of the Med Bay!_ Hey, at least you knew with the Hatchet when he'd toss a wrench to your head and weld your aft to the nearest vertical surface. Sockets, though? Pit, he was a loose cannon, and about as predictable as Blitzwing's personality changes. I made a big mental note to never, under any circumstances, upset Sockets if I could avoid it, at least if I knew I was going to soon end up in medical for some reason or another. The mech was scary!

'_Jetfire, please come and talk for a bit. We need to discuss these younglings.'_

'_Okay, Optimus, I'll be right there.'_

"Sockets, ladies, I'm needed with the Prime. Will you be alright here?"

I had no idea I'd raise a ruckus like that with such a simple yes-or-no question. Heads turned to look at us when three shrill screams tore through the hall. Sockets and I both cringed at the infernal sound as three small frames slammed to m mid-section, easily upsetting my equilibrium, and forcing me to flail my arms around in order to reach my balance again. After succeeding in the none-too-easy task I refocused my attention to the three Seekers now gripping me with more force I imagined they possessed. I couldn't, however, make anything sensible out of their high keens and babbling, as they all tried to drown out what the others were trying to say to get their own points across.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA, ladies! One at a time! Now, what's the issue here?" I asked, trying my very best to remain calm and collected. Evidently the Seeker trio wasn't at its best, and needed someone sane to be there for them. Primus, if this was how raising sparklings was going to be like, then I was in no hurry whatsoever to get to that point! I'd also have to ask Optimus how he did it…

Suntop took lead. I didn't know if it was conscious or not, but the other two seemed to trust her to always make the right decisions and get them out of trouble. _That's probably what it means to be a part of such a tightly knit group. It's almost like watching a mini gestalt team,_ I mused.

"Please don't leave us! Please! We're scared to be alone in a weird place, and there are no other fliers around, ground-bound don't understand us… But you do! You have wings! Don't leave us alone, please, please… please…?" the last bit came as a quiet question, and it was accompanied by a tug at my wing. The displeasure caused by the action was quickly swept to the very back of my mind when I realized she, as well as her trine, had tears in their optics. Without really thinking, I kneeled down and opened my arms as an invitation to an embrace, which they gladly accepted. It broke my spark to see femmes or younglings crying or otherwise distressed, and I couldn't help but do my best to comfort and protect them. I had always been that way, and I think I always would be.

"Shh, it's okay, I promise… I'll protect you, okay? Nothing bad will happen to you ever again, I promise I'll take care of that…" I cooed to them, hoping to bring them some solace and peace of spark.

"So… you'll let us come w-with you?" Dodge, the quiet blue Seekeress asked in between sniffles. My spark all but melted at the sight.

"Yes, I will, but we'll have to hurry: cousin Optimus is already waiting."

"You're the Prime's _cousin?!_" the trio exclaimed in perfect unison. I frowned.

"Yes, is that a problem? You aren't afraid of the wuss, are you?" I snickered. "He's nothing but a big softie, really. He won't let anything bad happen to you either. He's almost exactly like me, except more responsible and not as handsome. Oh, and he lacks the wings," I winked. They looked at each other, and I could tell by their postures that they were communicating via some unknown link. Finally the leader relaxed and nodded to me.

"We'll come with you, if it isn't any trouble."

I smiled. "It isn't. Come along, then. Sockets, we'll stop by the med bay so you can finish the work later today, okay?"

"Roger."

We passed by many other Autobots who cast curious glances in my direction, and the trio of Seeker younglings trailing after me. I suddenly got a mental image of a mother duck and her young waddling along, and I shuddered at the fact that that was what we most likely resembled at the moment. _If the Lambo twins witness this_, I thought despairingly_, I'll never be able to live it down!_

Fortunately for my reputation, we didn't encounter the Disastrous Duo on our way to the high command. They were grouped together in the very back of the hangar, probably to let the younglings look around with just ordinary soldiers around, no big, famous mech wreckers the 'Cons undoubtedly tell horror stories about. After all, being around high ranking officers does tend to unnerve us all, especially if one is only half their size and already a bit apprehensive of said mechs, whether being with them is a temporary solution or not.

Optimus, perceptive as he always is, noticed us first.

Of course, some of that perceptiveness could be because we are connected by a family bond…

He smiled and opened his mouth to greet me when he noticed the "ducklings" behind me.

Slaggit I need to get rid of that image!

"Jetfire, didn't I say to come alone? And shouldn't they be under our medics' custody?"

I fidgeted, knowing full well that I was openly refusing my Prime's orders, and Prowl's immediate presence, no less! Before I could apologize or do anything else, Wingslide, the poor, timid and very much scared and shaking youngling spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Prime Commander Sir. The fault is ours. We insisted on coming with. Please don't punish Mr. Jetfire or throw him in the brig or anything. We were so scared of being alone, and Mr. Jetfire was so nice to us, and we couldn't trust anyone and he was kind and didn't shun us and… We're really sorry," she finished and bowed her head. Optimus looked at me, and I gave him a nearly invisible nod. Then I opened a comm. line to him.

'They were so scared, Optimus, it would've been too cruel to just leave them there. They begged me to take them with me. I couldn't leave them, I just couldn't. If you had heard them…'

'_I know, don't worry about it,'_ he answered, effectively cutting my explanation short. I didn't complain. Optimus turned to the other officers.

"Now that we're all here, we should consider how we're going to house the new arrivals. Prowl?"

Said mech stepped forward, and I had to hold back a snicker. I respected the mech greatly, we'd have probably already lost the war many times over if it wasn't for him and his brilliant tactical planning and calculating, but the mech himself was a bit too easy to read sometimes, too predictable. He had probably started to calculate all the possible new expenses and other things required to sustain another twenty-something sparklings and younglings ever since he learned we'd be giving them homes, if I knew the mech at all. Which I did. He squared his shoulders and begun his lecture, which I was sure he'd gone over at least a dozen times before deeming it presentable.

"In my opinion, we have two alternatives. Either we house the new arrivals all together in a remote place where they'll be left alone in peace, or we can try and persuade them to bunk with regular Autobots or civilians, family units or otherwise. Personally, I favor the first alternative, because that way both they and we will have time to grow accustomed to the new situation without any risk of it escalating into a crisis, should something unexpected happen."

"And this was expected…?" I quietly muttered, but one glance form my cousin effectively shut me up. Prowl settled to send a mild glare in my general direction. Magnus shifted in his place.

"Don't you think it's kind of cruel to leave the younglings outside right after this apparently nasty voyage of theirs? I think we should take them in, to care for them properly. They've been without adults for far too long."

"Agreed, but if they react even half as strongly to being with strangers as these three," Bumblebee motioned to the trio of Seekers still half cowering behind me, "then don't you think it would only stress them out to be forced to be with strangers? Remember, the, umm, 'Con-born?" he asked for confirmation from the Seekers and received a careful nod from Suntop. "Yes, the 'Con-born are all slightly scared of us Autobot soldiers. I can't blame them: their families have probably more or less perished because of the war, and ultimately, us," he pointed out.

I grimaced. As irritating as it was, they truly were scared of us. I had watched the reactions of the younglings to the soldiers ever since they stepped from the shuttle. At best, the 'Con-born had only flinched. At worst, they'd run several yards to get away from the Autobot talking to them.

"That may be, but shouldn't we worry about our own families first, and only then take care of these sudden visitors?" Red Alert asked. Optimus immediately stepped forward.

"No. First of all, they are no visitors, and they will stay as long as they will, even if they want to stay with us for good. They are younglings, and they cannot be blamed for the crimes their creators may or may not have committed, so we will treat them as we'd treat any orphaned youngling: with care and devotion. Second, we are not going to leave them outside the base. It is too dangerous," he said with all the authority he had. Everyone knew not to question him on it. No one ever did when he spoke with _that_ voice. Prowl straightened his posture before speaking up.

"So what are your orders, Prime?"

Optimus halted for a fraction of a second before addressing the youngling Seeker beside me.

"What is your name, youngling?" he asked the trine-leader. She hesitated for a second, and then took two steps forward so that everyone could see her clearly.

"My name is Suntop, wing-leader of the Suntop-trine. My right wing is Dodge, and my left wing is Wingslide," she introduced herself and her trine. I almost winced at the tone she used: it was clipped and cold, like she was expecting to be struck on the spot if she said, or even so much as implied with her tone, something that the mechs wouldn't like. Optimus frowned at her choice of words.

"You don't need to speak so formally." Suntop immediately shrunk a bit.

"My apologies. I'm used to addressing the high command with respect and humility. My purpose wasn't to offend you in any way."

"That wasn't what I meant," Optimus sighed. He then smiled at the Seekeress. "You are safe. No need to be alarmed at every little thing going around you. No one here blames you for anything. Everything has been forgiven long ago."

Apparently he knew something I didn't, because Suntop immediately bowed her head in a silent thank-you, and I could feel the tenseness of the air around her wing-mates lessen severely.

'_Optimus…?'_

'_Later, Jetfire.'_

I knew better than to retort anything, although my hunger for knowledge on the situation was great. Suntop lifted her head back up, and even though I couldn't see her face, I knew that she was looking more like the happy youngling she should have been all along.

"Thank you, sir. I imagine you had something to ask, though? I find it unlikely that you'd just ask my name randomly in the middle of an important conversation," she asked. Her words were still formal, perhaps more so than Optimus would have wanted, but the tone was different. She wasn't scared anymore, and she didn't use that cold voice that had made shivers run down my spine.

Her words got a few smiles, and Optimus nodded. "You are right. I was going to ask your opinion on the matter. I believe you should be heard, and your opinion considered, as you are a part of the new-comers. You have a much better insight to the psyche of the younglings than any one of us does," he explained. Suntop was humbled.

"Thank you, sir. I will try to give a good perspective on things. And to do just that…" she turned to her wing-mates. "Dodge, Wingslide. I need you both to go and speak with the younglings that are still awake, get their opinions on it. Don't let them panic, just ask what they'd think of the idea. Be quick! And don't bother coming back to explain, use our bond instead," she instructed.

I was astonished by her sudden transformation from a timid little youngling to the obvious commander of the three. _Being the wing-leader is almost like being the commanding officer of a small team,_ I thought to myself and marveled at how much the trio looked like a set of warriors ready for a dangerous recon mission. It was both amusing and sad.

"Yeas, Ma'am!" the two wing-sisters saluted and bolted off to get on their task. Suntop turned back to the officers now wearing mixed looks of shock, amusement and wonder. She smiled modestly. "We had time to watch the older Seekers in action back when we were at the refugee hide-out. We had some free time on our hands, and the future seemed bleak to us, so we started to practice discipline and simple battle maneuvers."

_WHAT?!?_ I screamed in my head as I felt my jaw drop open. Discipline? _Battle maneuvers_? These femmes were 14, 17 years old, _tops!_ Had they been with the Autobots, they'd have started their training for battle only _after_ they turned 20, and even then it was just some basic theory of battle, physical exercise cam only later! What were they thinking?

Optimus was thinking along the same lines.

"Why would you practice something like that? Didn't anyone teach you mathematics, scientific facts or history when you were there?" he asked, clrearly as surprised – and displeased – at the fact that the only thing happening at the refugees was battle routines. Suntop shook her head.

"No, but don't get me wrong. It was not because they didn't want to teach us. I heard them curse over it quite a few times, in fact. It's just that it was such a chore to keep us under cover, out of the 'Con optics, that they simply didn't have the time nor the personnel to give us a proper education. We younglings were only given food and shelter for recharging, nothing else, but only because they didn't have anything better.

Fact is, the refugee soldiers had it worse. They slept whenever and wherever they could, because no one knew when the 'Cons would launch a siege, should they find us. That's also why we were sent away. The higher ups were suspecting that someone inside had tipped the 'Cons off, and that they were coming for us. So the leading officer of our out-post decided to send us away and prepare a distraction to the 'Cons so we could get away. They hi-jacked a 'Con vessel and put us onboard, gave us the coordinates we needed and the technical know-how to get your attention and then launched us to space. That's how we got here," she finished. Optimus had a deep scowl on his face. I knew he wasn't happy with the way the younglings had lived, but that wasn't the cause of his expression. I'd seen that face many times before, and so had the other officers, usually after a mission gone wrong, or a big battle. He always wore that face when he was worried over missing Autobot soldiers.

"What happened to them, then?" he asked. Suntop shrugged.

"I don't know. They are all probably dead, if the Captain was right. We refugees have been bugging the Decepticons ever since the destruction of the youngling sectors at the beginning of the war. I don't think that Megatron would let anyone of that group survive. If the accusation was false, they have contacted the High Command by now and told them that the first younglings have been sent to the Autobots. That will mean that the High Command will more than likely send other younglings after us, if they get any indication from you at all that you will accept and protect us."

There was silence after her story. After a couple of minutes Optimus spoke quietly.

"Prowl, how much do we have room?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but after housing these younglings, if they are given their own rooms and they don't go to Autobot families to live, we will have room for another additional thirty or so younglings."

"How many of you younglings are there, Suntop?" Optimus asked. Suntop bit her lip.

"More than that, to be sure. But I'm not certain of the exact number. No one, except the top chain, knows everything about the refugees. It's safer that way. You can't tell what you don't know, even under pain of death. That's what we were taught as the first thing at the refugees. But from what I've heard, there are hundreds of out-posts scattered across this galaxy alone.

The very newest ones, like our old one, are situated near this solar system, within a week's travel on your average spacecraft, I think. The older, bigger bases are closer to Cybertron. But, the younglings are gradually being transported closer to the Autobots. That's been the goal of the original refugees ever since they established themselves – to get all sparklings _away_ from the 'Cons, because they seem to be incapable of taking care of them. Also, the youngling sectors –incident may have something to do with it," Suntop said. Her macabre humor was lost on us, but there were good news, too. The next generation of younglings was on their way to us, and they were safe, at least for now.

Suntop started, then gave a nervous laugh.

"Sorry, that was Dodge. She said that the general opinion amongst the younglings was that as long as no one moves to hurt them in any way or form, they are willing to live with Autobot families, if they accept us in return. The only thing the Seekers in particular would like to ask if they could be housed in trines, or close to others of the same trine. In addition to my own, there are two other trines. Other than that, they don't really care where they'll be. Oh, and they promise not to cause any trouble, either," she informed us. Optimus visibly relaxed, and his face softened to a half-smile.

"That is good. Prowl, please inform suitable families or soldiers that they have incoming younglings they must care for, at least for the time being. I imagine Ratchet will want to have the sparklings under his own nose for now, as well as the ones too damaged to live normally, but the ones capable of going about should immediately be put under custody by suitable families," he ordered, and Prowl turned around, already issuing orders via his comm.. link. Optimus was about to give out more orders when Suntop carefully stepped to him and tugged on his arm.

"Excuse me, Prime, sir. I have a request."

"You only need to ask," Optimus smiled. Suntop… blushed?

"If I may be so rude, this also concerns Mr. Jetfire," she admitted, and I took the few steps required to get next to Optimus and her, in order to give her some privacy in whatever had her acting so weirdly. Her mood-swings were truly unpredictable, but then again, she was a femme, and you never knew what they'd do. Her face turned an even deeper shade of lavender, and she muttered something so fast and so quietly that I couldn't hear her, and Optimus couldn't either.

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?" he requested, and Suntop heaved a great sigh, almost coming out as a huff. Then she squared her shoulders and looked straight into the azure optics of my Commander.

"Our request – that of my trine and I – is that we be housed with Jetfire, if he accepts our proposal," she declared proudly. I found my mouth gaping again, but I couldn't bring myself to close it. Amusement flickered from my cousin through the family bond we share. I latched on to the bond and sent my irritation at him through.

_:__This isn't funny, Optimus!:_

_:Like Pit it isn't! You, with younglings? The twins will have a field day with this when they find out!:_

_:You'll find yourself missing two front-liners, then.: _I growled back. I felt him apologize over the bond for his reaction, and I immediately forgave him. I did have to admit that the proposal was more than I anticipated.

_:But will you accept it? Hurry, I think she's growing impatient… and nervous.:_ Optimus whispered over the bond.

I looked down to check on Suntop, and true enough, her head was bowed and her lower lip was trembling. I suddenly realized how terrified she must have been for even asking, and now we had stayed quiet for too long. Suddenly, like a river breaking down a dam, she started to panic.

"I'm so sorry for asking, I'll stay outside, I'll be no trouble, I promise I'll --"

"Oh, hush," I suggested and hugged her so that she wouldn't flee in her absurd state of panic. "I never thought Seekers were so skittish! No wonder ole 'Screamer is always the first to run from battle," I joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Suntop was confused.

"Starscream, the Aerial Commander and Second in Command of the Decepticreeps," I explained. Suntop frowned.

"Oh, him I know. But that isn't important," she added quickly, and turned her desperate, red optics to seek mine. "Will you have us?" she whispered. My expression softened and I bowed down to place a light kiss on her fore-head.

"Yes, I will."

"All three of us?"

"Of course," I smiled. Then I looked at Optimus, who was smiling widely. "If you don't object…?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied.

I heard two shrieks of undeniable joy and shortly after I felt two small frames slam to my side, hugging me and squishing Suntop to my chest. I embraced the whole trine and, for some reason, I felt like the day had brightened, and the future seemed better.

We had thought that the only younglings alive were either with us or the 'Cons, since the large ship with the Neutral families had arrived. But somehow, some way, others had managed to survive as well, and they were already on their way to us.

* * *

First: apologies again for the delay. If you want to know why this thing took so FRICKIN' long to write, you may want to check the very top of the chapter. It should explain everything. I still have one week of work but then it starts: FREEDOM! Because the ice cream booth is taken away.

Second…

OHMYGOSH I had the greatest typo of all times when I was writing that scene where Wingslide starts to profusely apologize their presence with Jetfire, and I got the mech's name SO wrong! Okay, so I had a long day working around the house and it was past midnight, but to mis-spell JETfire to FATfire is just unforgivable! I mean, I was re-reading the whole thing, comparing it to the stuff I wrote in my note-book at work, and suddenly there's this all-new character called FATFIRE! My expression screamed WTFH?!? while I myself was laughing so hard that my MOM, from the other side of the house, came to check if I was okay. Note to self: no writing after twelve o'clock at night!


	4. Chapter 4: Energon Troubles

**DISCLAIMER**: I own nothing, 'cept the younglings from the ship (check the earlier chaps if you, for some odd reason, don't have a clue what I'm talking about).

How to read the lines: :_bond talk:_,_ 'comm-link talk'_, "normal talk", _thoughts_

* * *

**Kaceystar**

"Wait! No, don't go there, WAIT!"

I never knew that a mech so small could be so fast!

Even though I'd had plenty of experience of overly hyper, ridiculously curious and fast little mechlings when Leo was growing up, Fast Forward was proving to be a tough case. He kept zipping in between other mech's legs, throwing half-hearted apologies as he went, and I did my best to keep up with him. I wasn't, to my astonishment, doing all that great either.

Had we been in open space, I wouldn't have had any trouble keeping up with him: he made way too many twists and turns to really get his speed built up. Besides, it wasn't like I couldn't out-run a four-foot little twerp like him, he was barely a quarter of my height, for frag's sake!

Alas, we weren't in a large, open-air space, and instead of me having enough room to maneuver in, I had to constantly dodge flailing limbs and mechs that were an inch from toppling over. I was not a small femme anymore, and so I had more trouble than I cared to admit to copy his route. Not only that, but the mech was small enough to, every once in a while, slip past me and disappear. It was fairly easy following him, though. I just had to follow the nearly crazed chatter he kept up, and the line of cussing mechs trying not to stomp on him and permanently make him stop his manic chase for Primus-knows-what through the hangar.

Speak of the fragger!

_Zipp!_ he went through another big mech's legs, causing him to lose his balance. He teetered on the verge of falling as I hit my breaks, not wanting to actually make him, too, fall down. No such luck. About an astrosecond later I slammed into him, thus toppling him over with a curse flying from both of us.

"Sorry!" I winced in sympathy for the mech. I really couldn't help feeling but sorry for the mech, since his day wasn't really what one would call peachy, what with first having to go on an emergency landing site, then taking care of a big group of younglings, then having one of said younglings run between his legs and after _that_ having a femme slammed to his mid-back. Before having intimate contact with terra firma. I had to give him credit when he didn't blow up in my face.

"It's okay, just tell Leo to be more careful," he shrugged it off, already gathering himself up.

"Oh, I wish it was just Leo," I muttered and dashed after him again.

I really did! If it was my brother, I'd only have to tell him to stop via our spark link. As it was, I wasn't connected to the little slagger by the name of Fast Forward, thus rendering me unable to stop the slagger by only telling him to. Words obviously didn't sway him, as I'd already remarked earlier.

I stopped to look around a little. Slag, lost him again.

I had already looked for him for quite a while when I finally caught him talking to Perceptor. I didn't yet know the mech well, because I hadn't had the time to go to the lab for a long while now, but I knew he was an old friend of Ratchet's and Wheeljack's. Just more quiet than either one, but just as enthusiastic as Wheeljack when it came to science. I had also heard that the only reason Wheeljack had yet to blow us all up with one of his crazy inventions was because Perceptor was there to look them over, pointing the small flaws in calculation Wheeljack had neglected to look at, being too excited over his project.

I had no trouble imagining that.

Currently the two mechs, Perceptor and Fast Forward, were deeply engaged in conversation about something. Fast Forward looked a bit confused.

"But how does it work in action? You can't fulfill those requirements in the field," he said to Perceptor, obviously asking about something Perceptor had been kind enough to lecture him about. Probably something scientific, although I had a hard time imagining the spazztic little mech actually concentrate on something as delicate as the things Percy worked with.

"I'm sorry, is he bothering you?" I politely asked. Perceptor looked up from his nicely started lecture on Primus-only-knows-what and flashed me a smile.

"Ah, young Kaceystar. How wonderful to see that nothing bad happened with the mission today. I do admit, I was a bit worried about the signal Blaster intercepted, but it seems everything has gone quite well," he said. After a pause of approximately 1.8 seconds he started. "Oh, but I didn't answer your question, did? I am terribly sorry, Kaceystar. He isn't bothering me, quite the contrary, in fact. I have never met a mech so young and so interested in the more scientific aspects of engineering. I was just telling him of the project Wheeljack and I are working on at the moment."

He opened his mouth to explain it further, but I interrupted him, feeling my father search for me through the bond.

"I'll stop by the lab someday and go over it with you and 'Jack, but I really need to get this tyke to the other new-comers. My father has something planned for them," I explained to him and secured a tight grip on Fast Forward's arm. Perceptor's face flashed disappointment, but then he smiled.

"I'll hold you to that. From what I've heard from both Wheeljack and Ratchet, you are a truly remarkable femme in all aspects, and I regret not having had the opportunity to see it for myself. Good luck with everything today, Kaceystar. I have a feeling you may have a long day ahead of you yet," he cautioned and walked off towards the labs. I couldn't help but blush at the praise. I knew everyone thought I was special, but hearing that the Hatchet himself had said something like that… Wow.

"What does your father plan to do with us?"

I shook my head to clear it. "Huh?"

Fast Forward smirked.

"Your father, Optimus Prime? Remember, big mech with flames and--"

"Oh, that's funny. I almost laughed," I snarked back with a mock glare. He returned the gesture by sticking his tongue out.

"I'm serious, though. Do you know what will happen to us?" he asked after withdrawing his tongue to where it was supposed to be. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I only know that he called for me and told me to take you with me and then he said he'd meet us where Sockets is patching up the others," I said. If I thought that he'd spook because of the uncertainty of their very near future, I was wrong. He just beamed at me.

"Okay. One thing though," he trailed off with a glint in his optics. I immediately went to defensive mode. I'd seen that look in the optics of many of my comrades, usually Leo or Sideswipe, but also occasionally Sunny or Bee, too. He wanted something from me.

"What?" I asked, already regretting it. He gave me a face-splitting grin and held his arms up.

"Carry me!"

"Oh Primus," I sighed and lifted him up, starting to make my way to my father. Many mechs gave me curious looks as I passed them with a chattering sparkling in my arms, but I just gave them a look saying: Don't ask. For your own good.

Lucky us, we reached the make-shift med bay without any huge incidents (there was the one with Fast Forward nearly jumping out of my hold while screaming "ENERGON GOODIES!", severely startling the femme holding said things. He'd gotten a goodie, though. And he'd thanked very nicely.) with Fast Forward still munching away at the half-molten piece of sweet, and I was very happy for it. I noticed that Sockets was casually lounging on one of the many crates containing various sorts of gear for missions, so he must've been ready with everything. Fast Forward squirmed in my arms.

"Lemme down, please?" he pleaded with me and I complied, feeling my arms tire of holding him. He immediately sauntered over to a couple of other younglings, and I suddenly knew why he'd been so slow to eat his candy – he wanted to boast with it. Sure enough, a couple of bigger mechs tackled him and started to mercilessly tickle him for torturing them like that. I chuckled.

"They're really not all that different from us."

I turned my head to Sockets. He had a contemplating look on his face as he watched the quarrel with mild interest.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The 'Con younglings. I remember starting, joining or causing fights like that when I was their age," he explained. He then heaved a heavy sigh. "Makes me wonder about the war. If we all start alike, then what goes wrong along the way for some of us, I wonder?" he said before we fell into a comfortable silence.

I had to admit that he had a point. Now that I looked at the little mechs rolling on the ground, I could see a lot of the things I saw when I watched my younger siblings pick a fight with each other. We all came to this world the same way. We all had a mother and a father, and we all shared a deep family bond with them and our possible siblings. We all had a spark, we felt, thought and dreamed.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to have been brought up as a Decepticon. I couldn't, just as I couldn't imagine Leo, Orion, Ariel or any of my friends as such. Giving up on that approach, I tried another angle. What if my cousins were brought up as Autobots? What would Venom have become? The same, violence-loving image of a mech he was today, or something different? Maybe he'd have been like Orion, or Leo?

_No_, I told myself, _he could never be like my brothers, no matter the up-bringing._ My spark sank as I thought of my cousin. It didn't take a scientist of Perceptor's caliber to decipher his enormous hate for my family, but especially me. I didn't feel like he could ever have become a true Autobot, even if he'd grown up as one – he was his father's son, just as much as I was my father's daughter.

Then my thoughts turned to my second cousin. What about Viper? Could she have become an Autobot with the right up-bringing? I couldn't be certain. I'd only met her twice, after all, and both times were very brief and full of stress, for one or both of us. The first time I ever saw her was at the beginning of my second captivity in the 'Con cells, and I'd mostly been out of it, so I couldn't remember much. I was certain, though, that she'd mostly only been curious, rather than malicious, although I could have detected mistrust from her side, as well as something darker under the sparkling-like good will and curiosity. Something more… violent.

_Then again_, I had to admit to myself in the name of honesty, _not all the Autobots are exactly saints either_. Pit, even I'd given in to my lust for seeing my enemies dead at my feet once or twice, and I'd acted accordingly. But those few times had been exceptions, and I'd always felt bad about it later. I didn't know for sure if Viper was like that or not.

The second time I saw her was under, if possible, even worse circumstances. That had been at the end of my captivity, as I'd battled Starscream and Venom in the hangar to protect both myself and the Quintessons, and the whole building had basically collapsed on us. And then Viper had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and I had to rescue her as well from being crushed by hundreds of tons of burning steel and concrete. Not exactly a great opportunity to get to know each other. She'd been so scared, and had wailed loudly over probably all bonds she had. I'd taken her with me as I fled from the crumbling building, and had sent her my love to calm her down as a gift, not expecting her to respond to me – and she'd accepted it, and even returned some of it back.

As I remembered, I felt a strong surge of hope rise in my spark. Maybe, just maybe, this war wouldn't only end when one side was completely annihilated. Maybe there was a chance for us to re-think how we should go about on our business, the Decepticons and us, if we were all just brought up alike.

Then I realized what it would require, and that I could never pull a stunt like that. This great grand master plan of mine suggested that all the sparklings would be in one place, brought up all alike – and the Decepticons would never allow it. And we couldn't just go and steal their sparklings to teach them a more peaceful way of life, separate them from their creators and force them to bend to our will. It would make us the exact same as the 'Cons if we did that, no better.

I shuddered as I recalled, once again, the diversion assault launched on the old Autobot base, the great scheme of the Decepticons to strike to the heart of the Autobots: our sparklings. That was already some time ago, but it still burned my mind to remember the horrible aftermath of it all. Luckily, I'd been the only one taken, but a few others, my young brother Leo included, had suffered severe damage during the assault.

My attentions were, thankfully, re-directed by a shrill scream of laughter, and a cry of surprise mixed with annoyance or outrage. I quickly zoomed in on the group of refugee younglings and saw the problem.

I fought down my laughter for the gazillionth time today. Fast Forward was jumping up and down, trying to reach a young Seeker, who teasingly hovered in the air just above the ground-mech's reach, dangling a piece of what sometime might have been an energon goodie. I could not help but chuckle. Apparently the little, overly energetic bundle of pure hyperness had gotten too cocky with his outrageous boasting about how he'd gotten an energon goodie and the others hadn't, and someone had had enough.

The Seeker looked at Fast Forward with a positively evil smirk before ever so slowly putting the molten piece of sweetness into his mouth, making a noise suggesting that the sweet _really_ tasted good and clearly enjoying it as well as looking at Fast Forward's reaction and hearing his protests from below him. After he was done eating, he gracefully landed next to the now sulking rain-cloud of a mech Fast Forward. He rounded so that he was positioned in front of the smaller mech and said something, extending his hand. An apology?

_No_, I thought as I looked at his face, which was screaming _Nyahnyahnyah, gotcha!_ and then also noticing that the hand was covered with the remains of the goodie. The slagger was offering his hand for Fast Forward to lick, if he still wanted what remained of his precious loot! Talk about sweet revenge…

The dark look Fast Forward gave him should have been enough warning, but the Seeker was too preoccupied with laughing with the other older mechlings to notice, so he only realized something was wrong when his hand was suddenly snatched and brought up. Fast Forward had grabbed his wrist and proceeded to bite down on the offered middle finger – _**hard**_.

The Seeker released a cry of pain and surprise and yanked his hand back from the now triumphantly grinning mechling, who was now apparently satisfied again. The other younglings burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, pointing at the two mechs, who now were both busy with their hands – one nursing the offended limb and the other one carefully licking the remains of the sweet from his stained fingertips.

The scene was so familiar to me from the countless times my friends and I had been in the same, or a similar, situation, that I had to forcefully remind myself that these were no Autobot younglings – at least they didn't think so – and that they were raised in hiding as refugees, who had, until now, remained hidden from both us and the 'Cons, I'd imagine. That was a feat I'd thought impossible, so I had to respect these younglings. But they were just so…

… so like us. Like Autobots. Like… me.

_Then why_, I asked myself, _couldn't they be Autobots just as well? If they act so like us, couldn't we all live together, peacefully, as one?_

I was suddenly reminded of the ancient motto of the Primes, one that my father said before every great battle: 'Til all are one.

I wondered if this was what it meant, that regardless of how or where we are brought up, we should be able to stand as one, as a people. It brought an uninvited, but nevertheless welcome, smile to my face. Sockets noticed, and gave a smile of his own.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked, still happy that everything had been taken care of, and that the younglings were, for the moment, content.

"I'm thinking about what you said, and the old motto of the Primes. ''Til all are one', it says. Could it mean that there will be, no, that there is a chance to end this insane war without annihilating over half of us?" I asked. Before he could answer, I continued. "I think there is. I mean, we must have been together once. I don't see a reason why these younglings, for example, couldn't grow up to be normal mechs and femmes, why they couldn't live with us Autobots. I fail to see a difference, other than the color of optics," I said with a smile. His own had fallen for a moment, but it now came back just as strong, but with a tint of tenderness in it.

"And that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "is why you are so fit to be our Prime, despite what you may or may not think of yourself and your capabilities. You know just how to inspire hope and trust in the future in us."

I blushed at the praise. First Wheeljack and Ratchet, then Sockets? Wow, I'd really done something good lately to gain all this good talk…

Before I could pursue the conversation any longer, or thank Sockets for his kind words that I didn't think I'd earned, I heard a slight cough from somewhere around the height of my breast plating. Looking down, I found myself staring into red optics. The optics, in fact, of the same Seeker that had teased Fast Forward only minutes before.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Hope, but -"

"Please," I said with a quiet laugh, "my designation is Kaceystar. I'm sure you know it, and it's perfectly allowed to call me that." I still felt a little awkward about this Hope-business…

The Seeker blushed and scuffled on his feet a little before daring to lock optics with me again.

"Kac-" he broke off and took a deep, shivering breath. Did he have to gather his courage just to talk to me? I didn't know if I should have laughed or cried. I refrained from doing both and waited for him to continue. He lifted his head and squared his shoulders.

"Kaceystar," he stated, staring straight at my face with a look so determined that I almost had to bite my tongue not to explode in laughter. The look was so foreign on a face so young! He honestly couldn't have been older than little Kayla, at least not by much! I attempted to look as professional as he did.

"Yes? Your designation?" I questioned, deciding to play the formal game the younglings, strangely enough, seemed to prefer. I guess he wasn't prepared for it, though. He did something strange with his faceplates that made Sockets clamp his hand in front of his mouth not to laugh. I schooled my face again, determined not to laugh at the poor kid.

"M-my designation? Unimportant, m'lady, unimportant…" he stuttered, suddenly developing a terrible interest for his feet, which were almost twitching, despite his clear efforts to prevent us from seeing his fidgeting.

Sockets couldn't handle "m'lady" and the scene that came with it and ran away to let his mirth out in a place where he wouldn't embarrass the Seeker youngster. I wished I could have joined him, or at least could withdraw behind my battle mask so I'd be able to at least relax my face as it wanted to be, since I felt like I'd literally split my sides if I didn't let my laughter out. Despite this, my face remained stoic, my battle mask hidden. I looked at him again.

"Oh, of course it matters. Come on, I want to know your name," I tried a more laid-back approach, hoping it would break him free of his formality. Besides, I noticed he was getting jumpy, and the last thing I needed was another scared Seeker. I felt another pang of pity, but it received the same treatment as the first one. These younglings didn't need my pity, they needed my help!

"-edge."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was in my own world. Can you please repeat that?" I requested. I was rewarded with a smile, although a shy one.

"I said, my name is Sharpegde," he clarified for me, now a little more calmed. Good, I'd made the right decision.

"Well, Sharpedge, what bothers you?" I inquired. He took another deep breath to calm himself.

"The thing is… My friends… I… We are…" he let out a quiet grunt before kicking himself mentally so hard that I had no trouble seeing it. Primus this little mech was not letting himself off easy, was he? "We're hungry, and I thought… I mean, WE thought that… Maybe… If we could, I dunno… We could…" he trailed off his stammering and looked at me helplessly. I had a hard time believing this mech: first, he reminded me of a seasoned warrior with how concentrated and strict he'd looked like when he began his request, and now he was acting his age – a lost sparkling far from his creators, in a place and with people he didn't know and had never seen before.

But I'd gotten the message.

"I'll go and order someone to get you food. Do you think the rest of the refugees would want some energon as well?" I asked, receiving a thankful nod. I smiled. "Wait here, then. I'll send someone to fetch you and your friends and guide you to where you'll be fed," I instructed before walking off. I only had to take a few steps for the still buzzing and fussing crowd to swallow him.

I fought my way through the masses to my father. He was easy enough to find, being so tall. Therefore I saw him before reaching him, but before I could ask him about the energon, I saw something that positively made my spark stutter for a minute. I stopped right in the middle of the crowd, not quite yet reaching my father, and _stared_.

The three Seeker femmes from before, Wingslide and her trine, if I recall the name right, were cuddling Jetfire like he was the only certain thing in the universe. I let my curiosity and surprise filter through our bond to my father, wordlessly inquiring this strange phenomenon and its origins, but I only got an amused surge of feelings back, and a single word.

_:__Later_.:

I didn't question him, and he sent me his love. Even though he was wearing his mask, I had no trouble imagining the look on his faceplates – he was wearing that kind, satisfied smile of his that he always had when he was looking at Autobots having a good time, or relaxing, talking with each other. He was proud. Proud of the Seekers and his cousin, if I interpreted his feelings right, which I knew I did.

I replied his message through the bond with a promise of questioning him further later, and returned my love to him. When I finally reached him, I gave him a quick hug, just because I could and I felt like it. Also, I wanted his attention, and a hug was guaranteed to do the job right. I wasn't mistaken.

His optics left the spark-warming scene performed by the winged younglings and their safe haven and turned himself to face me. I could read the inquisitive expression from his face, even though there wasn't much of it to see.

"The refugee younglings are hungry. I don't know when they last ate," I explained myself before he could question me. His optics took a worried appearance, and I was quick to sooth him trough our bond as well as through words.

"It's okay, they said they'd wait for us to give food, and they didn't look like they'd keel over in the next five minutes," I said dryly. Primus knew how much I loved my father, but he could be a little bit of a mother hen at times. I love him for it all the more.

A smile graced what little could be seen from his face.

"Well, we'll make sure they don't starve even after that, now won't we? Prowl," he called to our second, who was hovering nearby, obviously waiting for instructions. The poor mech was a slave of his own habits… always there for my father, always loyal, liable, the epitome of sureness in everything he did. I thanked Primus for the millionth time that he had Jazz back.

"Yessir?" he asked, saluting my father as he always did. Yep, slave of his own habits alright.

"I need you to organize energon for the younglings as fast as possible. Get some kind of system to make it as easy as possible, too. I strongly believe that they all will be much more cooperative when they have full tanks, and I'm sure they'll at least be happier," my father said. Prowl snapped himself to a salute again.

"Consider it done, sir," he promised before walking off, already speaking to his comm. link. When he was outside our hearing range, I turned to my father again.

"Okay, will you now tell me what the deal is with the winglets and Jetfire?" I asked, and immediately felt like banging my head on the nearest wall. When, exactly, had Fast Forward's vocabulary stuck on me? That was everything but the dialect we spoke in the Autobots base! Winglets? Since when did I say _winglets_???

My father, too, noticed my odd choice of words, but decided not to pry on it. He did, however, raise his optic ridge at me.

"It seems that your new friend was right. The younglings took an immediate liking to Jetfire, one I cannot fully understand, I'm afraid, but we have nevertheless just decided that he'd be their guardian until further notice. And," he added with a deep chuckle that rumbled from somewhere from his massive chest, "it just may be that there will be no further notice. Jetfire is happy with the situation as well, believe it or not, or at least content, and I see no reason as to why we should change the anything." He turned his optics back on the spark-warming scene, and I followed his example, like so many times before.

They were no longer cuddling each other, but rather talking in hushed voices, hunched together. I couldn't help but wonder the radical change the green Seekeress: the last time I'd seen her, just before Fast Forward had made his grand escape, had been when she was alternately wailing, cursing, screaming and hissing at her trine and clawing the air before her, convinced that we Autobots would enslave the poor younglings – or worse. I was still a bit offended at the thought, but having experienced captivity, I understood how she must have felt.

Now, she was calm and even wore a careful, guarded smile on her small faceplates. She wasn't tense, but rather just aware of her surroundings, like anyone in a new place with new people. I didn't get the feeling that she was scared, or thought that the situation was precarious or otherwise just posing danger to her. Her wings were relaxed, and she stood in an easy manner, not crouching for flight or still and rigid because of fear. She simply… was.

I was extremely happy that she could, in a time-span of just about thirty minutes, calm so much. She'd been so scared, so different, that I had a hard time believing that I was looking at the very same youngling!

And then she noticed me and met my optics. She jumped and then retreated behind the white Seeker still unaware of my presence, talking to Jetfire. I could guess that she was the trine leader, of what little Fast Forward had told me between munching his late energon-goodie. The twitchy Seeker yanked her friend's wing in a none-too-gentle manner, and even I could hear the yelp it caused – and see the reproachful glare it earned. The green Seeker didn't seem to care, and instead whispered something to her supposed trine-leader. The white one turned to Jetfire and said something before turning around and starting to walk towards me and my father, her trine in tow.

Now there was no mistaking it – I'd seen the formation they automatically did while walking so many times on the battle field that I was certain of the hierarchy. The white one called the shots, without a doubt.

'_What do you think they need?'_ I inquired over our bond. I felt him shrug.

'_I'm not sure, but I don't think they mean anything bad. But be careful of what you say to them – Jetfire only now managed to calm them down.__ They are a wee bit… how should I put it…? They are still a bit scared, I think,'_ he replied. I felt another pang of pity slam my spark around, but like the ones before it, I told it to frag off. They did not need my pity. They needed something actually done. They needed my help.

"Prime, sir. Kaceystar, ma'am," the white one greeted formally. For someone so young, her voice sounded strangely old. She sounded like _Prowl_! I quickly glanced at my father, my optics and spark screaming a loud _what?!_ He told me to let it just slide over our bond. I did, and instead of telling the Seeker how being called "ma'am" made me feel about a million years old I smiled at her, trying my best to look friendly and informal. Maybe that would coax her to be less formal as well…

"You do know you don't have to call me that, right?" I asked, making sure I had a good amount of joking in my voice, lest she be scared that I was mad at her. Pit, I didn't know how their processors worked! She chuckled, a sound suggesting both embarrassment and apology.

"Sorry, old habits die hard, if at all," she said, her optics falling to the ground, but the corners of her mouth were twitching in something almost like a smile. My own version widened a little.

"That's alright, no problem at all. Just so that you don't think that we require it from you," I clarified and shrugged it off. She gave a nervous laugh and looked at us again.

"Yeah, I already heard about that. I'll work on it… We'll work on it," she corrected and looked at her trine. I'd never seen a look like that on the face of someone with red optics. It was… well… Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared looks like that every now and then on their brotherly moods. It was friendly, but then a little more. I shook my head to clear it a little before addressing her again.

"Did you have something to ask?" I said, searching their faces for any signs of anxiety or negativity. I didn't find any. Dang, Jetfire was good… and Fast Forward had been right in pointing him out as the best option for calming down these younglings. I made a mental note to thank him later. I was starting to get really intrigued with this Seeker business. Maybe I could get Nightfall to talk to me once she woke up… and once the Hatchet let someone in to talk…

"My trine-mates and I would like to express the gratitude of all of us in behalf of Cross, since she's out of commission, as well as Nightfall. They were told to lead us until we got here, but since they are both too damaged to perform their duties and since we have already been taken as sort of liaisons between the refugees and the Autobots at this time, it falls on me to perform the duties of my superiors until further notice. Therefore, we express our utmost gratitude for letting us into your base and taking care of us. We promise not to harm anyone, mech, femme or youngling, or otherwise cause any trouble during our stay. We are also willing to work for our up-keep, and if need be, defend the base from enemy assault," she finished with a sharp salute, which her trine immediately mimicked.

I was floored. I had to ask if Prowl had any Seeker relatives, because this one could have been his _sister_ with how she was acting!

"It's no strain to us," my father assured the uptight little femme, who still hadn't let go of her salute. "We are just glad to know that the only survivors of the war weren't on the Axalon. And we most definitely will not have younglings fighting against the 'Cons, refugee or not! Nor are we going to put you to work. What you should do is get educated, and I'm sure we can arrange that somehow," he smiled at the Seekers. The three cautiously dropped their salutes and looked at us shyly.

"What are your names, exactly?" I asked."I already overheard your name," I nodded to the green Seeker, "before Jetfire approached you. But the other two I do not know." Wingslide looked a bit sheepish.

"Sorry about that episode… I lost myself for a moment there…" she muttered, eliciting muffled laughter from her blue "sister" and an unmasked grin from the trine-leader. Then the white Seeker looked at me.

"I am known as Suntop, and the blue, quiet one is Dodge. You said you already heard Wingslide… I'm not surprised," she confined to me, making Dodge giggle and Wingslide give her a sour look, which Suntop promptly ignored, as if from practice. Her face went from joking to serious in less than a second.

"We are honored to meet you. The elder sisters told us so much about your adventures through space, and then the things you managed to do against the 'Cons." She chuckled nervously.

"Actually, I thought you'd be quite a bit older, and perhaps a bit taller. It seems unreal that someone your age could do all that," she said, measuring me up. Dodge shifted on her side.

"You forget, 'Top, that she's from the Prime lineage. They aren't like us – never have been! I wouldn't dream of comparing her with us – or anyone else from the refugees. The only ones worthy to be compared are her own siblings, and that would just be cruel," she quietly said, casting her optics down to avoid my gaze. Suntop chuckled.

"As usual, you are right, wing-sister. She's not like us, because she's born to lead, to lead the Cybertronians. No Seeker was ever worthy of that, nor will one ever be worthy. Kaceystar," she said, turning her optics to me, "I do not envy you: a terrible responsibility weighs on you, and it will attempt to drag you down. Do not let it. The Autobots will not be the only ones looking for your guidance in the future, as the Autobots now look for your father's. But don't let yourself despair over this – you have many friends and allies to turn to, and more will come, in time. I, for one, hold deep respect for you. So much has already been thrown your way, yet you seem unstoppable. Please remain that way. We need you. We all do."

I felt tears prickling in my optics, but I still felt inadequate, in some level. Even as my father sent me his love, I couldn't help but doubt the Seeker's words. I had to ask…

"Why do you need me?"

Her bright red optics softened, hearing my quiet tone, and her mouth stretched into a kind smile the likes of which I'd never seen on a Seeker before.

"Because you are our Hope. Without you, why should we go on? What should we look forward to? You are just that important."

* * *

**Prowl**

After I'd organized the feeding of the new younglings and made sure that they were all at least relatively comfortable, I retreated to a quieter corner to calm myself down a notch. I hadn't shown it to anyone, but I was actually very shaken by this new tide in our nearly two-thousand-year-old war. Never before had I even considered the possibility of a third faction, and now it was slapped onto my face like a wet towel.

Needless to say, it was an unsettling experience. I should've taken that possibility into account so long ago, I shouldn't have taken the assumption that there were only two variables in this war for granted, I should have –

_:Babe? You okay?:_

_:I'm fine, Jazz. Just a bit unsettled. Nothing that I can't handle.: _I sent him a quick caress through our bond and hoped he would drop the issue. Slaggit, I really must've been distracted if I couldn't even rein my feelings in enough to keep them from dripping to Jazz's side of the bond…

_:Bullslag, Prowl. Your spark is __shaking, and you never get that unsettled. Tell me right now or so help me I _will_ come over there and _make_ you talk!:_

I couldn't help but shiver as he flooded our bond with promises of interfacing me into submission in front of the whole Autobot base. I knew he'd do that, if it made me talk to him, tell him why I was so stressed out all of a sudden. But how could I tell him that all my life as the Autobot head tactician I'd overlooked a serious possibility? A variable that could well change the tide of war! I felt like such a failure that I accidently let some of the feeling go over the bond.

_:Wait right there.:_

Before I could protest, Jazz flooded the bond with all the reassurance and love that he had for me, all the trust he put into me and every positive thing he could gather in his haste to get to where I was sulking. I released a deep sigh and resigned myself to hearing what an idiot I was for even thinking that. But I knew I was right. I should have guessed…

I heaved another hefty sigh as I felt his arms circle my waist from behind, caressing my hips and his breath on my neck before nipping on a couple of wires. I involuntarily leaned into his affections, some of the tension in my frame leaving.

"What is wrong, Prowl?"

"This could have been a huge disaster," I confessed. I felt him shrug.

"It wasn't. Everything we do can end up as a huge disaster, Prowl, you know that. But it doesn't stop us from doing our thing. So, exactly what is it that got you so worked up now?"

I hesitated for a moment before giving in. I always did feel uncomfortable accepting my short-comings, even if it was only to confessing to my bonded.

"I never took into account that there could be a third faction in this war. If they hadn't been on our side… If they'd been just another faction of Decepticons… Primus, Jazz, I would have doomed us all!" I felt him try to reach me through the bond, and I reluctantly let him envelope me in the ethereal world to a warm embrace, feelings of reassurance and love surging straight to my spark.

"Prowl, none of us could have seen this happening, and you can't take the blame all to yourself. There was absolutely no sign of these people during the whole war! How could you have known?"

"I should have thought about it… Nothing is that black and white, Jazz."

"And we knew that. We did know about the Neutrals, right? We always knew there were pacifists who declined to fight on either side. I'd thought that that was enough variables, as well." When he felt my guilt still ripping at my spark, he gave a sigh and turned me around.

"Prowl," he said, looking me straight into the optics and probably seeing my spark as well, "don't do this to yourself. If we all start thinking the what-ifs in this war, we won't have the time to actually fight off the 'Cons, and the war would be over in an instant. Now, as lovely as the ending of the war sounds, I don't think that's the way we wanna do it. C'mon, babe, get yourself together. You're scaring the slag out of me," he ended softly, pecking me on the lips. I sighed and gave in, letting him pull me close and hug me.

He was right, after all. We all knew the risks involved, and that there would be surprises along the way. My job was to try and foresee those surprises in case they were nasty, and therefore I rather disliked being surprised. Even in my wildest dreams I could never have imagined taking care of a 'Con-born sparkling.

First of all, up until thirty years ago I'd thought that our race was living on borrowed time – there simply weren't enough younglings with this crazy war going on. I had been sure our race was doomed… Then, Kaceystar had appeared, and suddenly everyone seemed to be procreating. But even though we'd started to have children again, only two Decepticon sparklings existed to my knowledge – Megatron's spawns, both. That hadn't been the case, and I'd only known that after something could have happened. I'd been proven wrong, and I hated, _hated_ to be misinformed. It was my duty as both head tactician and SIC to know everything and take care of what needed to be done, whatever it took.

'_Prowl? We need you at the refugee younglings – something's not right.'_

I couldn't hold back the groan at Socket's message. What _now_?

'_On my way. Details of the situation? Did someone go hysteric?'_

'_Negative, but the Seekers refuse to drink their energon.'_

'_Slag. See if you can convince them that we aren't trying to poison them. My ETA is one minute.'_

"Jazz, I need to go. The Seekers are not eating." He frowned.

"Can't someone else take care of it? You look like you could use some serious recharge, man."

I couldn't help the smile forcing its way to my tired faceplates.

"I know, Jazz, but I am second-in-command. I need to see to this, I have to know these things. If it is something I did wrong, I'll have to correct it myself."

He sighed and let go of me. But the look he gave me afterwards was a clear warning of what would happen if I let myself fall into stasis while trying to do my duty. He'd offline me for sure!

"Alright," he allowed, but as I turned to go, he grabbed my arm and yanked me close. "But don't you dare go and get yourself overworked again. I _will_ go through with my promises!" he hissed before letting go. I could just stand there and watch as he sashayed away, making sure to move in a way that almost highlighted his hips.

'_Prowl? Where are you?'_

'_Sorry, Sockets, on my way.'_

I steeled myself and marched over to where Sockets was doing his best to make a couple of Seekers drink the energon cubes set in front of them.

"It's not poisoned, it's perfectly normal energon!" he said, exasperated. I could imagine that this was a seriously distressing situation for the young medic, as it was the first time he was actually in charge of some patients without a senior medic to back him up.

"What's the problem here?" I asked, saving his aft. He cast me a grateful look and stepped aside, relieved to have someone take the pressure away from him and not hiding it at all. _Lucky slagger_, I thought almost bitterly before kicking myself mentally. This was no time to get self-piteous!

The five Seeker younglings looked at me like I'd eat them. Great. This day was going _exactly_ as planned… The oldest of the group was shoved forward a bit, and he cast a dirty look to his comrades over his shoulders before looking at me again.

"You see, sir second-in-command, sir, we Seekers… we can't, umm… the energon makes us sick," he confessed quietly and looked down, his face a mask of shame and maybe a bit of fear. It tore at my spark to see a youngling of any kind look at me like that, but I had to stay strong.

"What do you mean 'it makes you sick'? It's freshly brewed, I specifically made sure that you were only given high-quality and low-grade energon to keep it in your tanks without any side-effects," I said, wondering what he could imply. I could smell from even where I was standing that the energon was perfectly edible, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it…

"We know, and the grounders are sipping it down rather trustingly as well," the Seeker said and pointed to ground-based younglings, already happily sipping… no, that was scarfing down their energon portions, with a couple of femmes trying to get them to slow down so that they wouldn't purge their tanks because of the quick refill. The Seeker refocused on me, continuing slowly. "Our problem is with our own tanks, not your energon. Fliers need a different solution of energon so that they can work in optimum condition, and drinking energon with a grade too low will just wind us up with a severe systems upset."

Brilliant. Just what I needed: the younglings couldn't drink the nutrition made for them. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Do you then know what kind of an energon will be sufficient?" I asked, almost painfully. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but this was simply ridiculous!

"I think we need something akin to high grade, but I'm not sure how to make it," he said, looking thoughtful. Then his face brightened. "Perhaps we could try to mix high grade and low grade together, see what it looks like?" he asked, his optics sparkling with an enthusiasm I didn't think a half-starved youngling could have. I sighed.

"Sockets, is it possible?" He frowned, thinking hard.

"I don't know, we should ask Ratchet, but he's in surgery, and told us others to leave him the slag alone until he gives us the okay again. I'm not crazy enough to go and bother him with critical patients in the med, even less when he's trying to re-attach wings on a youngling! Re-attaching limbs is hard enough, and the wings are always a tad bit trickier, and he's been moody lately. If you want to send someone, send one of the twins, or Ironhide. They'll just get their afts handed to them, they'll survive it, they're tough enough…" he said with a wry smile and a chuckle. I couldn't help but agree, and so opened a comm. link to Ironhide. The twins weren't reliable enough, they'd just attempt a spontaneous prank on him…

'_Ironhide here.'_

'_Prowl on the line, I need you to go and ask Ratchet what we should do with the Seeker younglings. They require a different solution of energon as a source of food than the ground-based mechs and femmes, and the younglings themselves don't seem to know the exact way to make the stuff.'_

'_Ratchet's performing surgery. He's got laser scalpels there, Prowl, not just the regular welders or wrenches, and you want _me_ to go _there_ to ask how to feed a couple of _sparklings_? Just how much do you hate me?'_ I almost chuckled. Almost. But I didn't have the time, patience or any other of the requirements to deal with a whining mech right now.

'_You're a big mech, Ironhide, you can handle it. Think of it as just another high-risk mission, or your regular battle – __I'll even give you a reason to do it: the younglings are close to starvation, and it's up to you to go and get them their energon. But don't shoot anything. If you do that, I won't have to tell you that you would be coming back from there in small bits and pieces – if at all.'_

'_If you are trying to persuade me into doing this high-risk mission for you, you are going entirely the wrong way about it.'_ The sigh he exhaled was like a tsunami in my audios, and I had to concentrate my tired CPU to comprehend his next words. _'A'ight, a'ight, I'm going. But you better bring flowers to my grave.'_

'_I'll give you roses,'_ I promised and cut the link. "Alright then, one of our mechs is on his way to ask Ratchet how to feed Seekers. hopefully he will have an answer when he comes back. If not, we'll see how this low grade high grade mix works out."

"Who did you send?" Sockets quietly asked as the younglings started to chat with each other animatedly. My face remained passive and indifferent, as it was intended to be.

"Ironhide." His brow wrinkled.

"Can we afford to lose him?"

"I told him to take it as another mission. He'll be on high alert."

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll be…" Sockets muttered and walked off to tend to a young femme showing the first signs of a system upset. I sighed. These poor younglings didn't have anything to do with the 'Cons. But how, how had they survived alone for so long? Who were these refugees? My CPU was racing with questions, questions I didn't have answers to, and I felt my anxiety rise again. I quickly squashed it down, not wanting to show any signs of breaking in front the troops or the young arrivals. They all had enough to take care of already; I needed to get myself together, just as Jazz had said. They all required it from me right now.

After a couple of minutes my comm. informed me that someone was on the line. I opened, but before I could acknowledge anything, Ironhide's hugely irritated voice nearly blew my audio off.

'WHAT THE FRAG, PROWL!? That was not a high-risk mission, that was a SUICIDE!'

I tuned the comm. link hastily down a bit, then answered.

'I am sure you overdid yourself.'

'The frag Ah did, Ah'll o'erdo YOU when I geddere, slaggit! Next time ya want someone t'go bother Ratche' when 'e's fixin' som'thin', you can ferget me from yah list!' he said, slipping to his own, special dialect in his rage.

'Were you successful?' I calmly inquired, knowing he'd calm down enough not to dismantle me before he reached me… or at least not do any lasting damage.

'Yeh Ah was,' he said, already sounding a bit calmer than before as he remembered that the younglings depended on him to get their fuel. 'Ratchet wasn't happy, but he gave me some mumbo jumbo on a datapad and told me to give it to Sockets for interpreting. He didn't say it that nicely, though.'

'Good, make sure everything is taken care of. I don't think my CPU's going to be able to go on for much longer.'

'You should have said something, Prowl. You know you aren't Primus, don't try to do everything yourself. Ever heard of delegating work?' I felt like growling, but had no trouble suppressing the absurd desire.

'Yes, in fact I have. But I need to be there to oversee everything and help if needed. I need to know everything, Ironhide, and I am delegating work. I did, after all, send you to Ratchet instead of going myself, and now I'll send you to get the recipe to Sockets,' I couldn't help the tired smile twist the corners of my mouth.

'Frag off, that's not how I meant the delegating process... Ironhide out.' he said with a chuckle and severed the connection.

A couple of hours later I crashed on the berth that Jazz and I shared in our quarters, laying myself beside Jazz, who was already happily snoring away. I smiled and caressed his helm, the smile widening as he sighed and leaned in to my affections, not breaking his recharge cycle. I gave a slight groan at my tired limbs before making myself comfortable.

I barely had the time to set my internal alarm to six o'clock in the following morning with a reminder to check in with Ratchet as soon as possible before recharge claimed me.

* * *

I apologize profusely for the HORRIBLE delays, but this language is only now starting to get into my head. I did rock with the economy and social studies tests (read: got over half the points), English (the b!tch we have instead of a teacher refused to score it, just writing "Good!" on the damn paper…! At least the others bother putting in the real scores, despite the fact that I'm not getting any kind of grades for the whole year…) and Sports (soccer-football, got and A/10/1/whatever is the best grade in your country). Now it's X-mas holidays, no more tests… Thank God… The Origins story will hopefully be updated during the holiday break, I've got one "chapter" ready for it already, in which Cripplerip bonds, but that's strictly the bonding, so it's unnecessary to read – if you don't want to.

R&R makes a happy authoress!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EVERYONE!


End file.
